Many of you know I do love me a snow day. My husband is working from home and we started our day with pancakes (his specialty) and we are currently sharing a second cup of coffee while we both work at our desks. It is definitely a life I am dreaming of having full time. It is a life I am aligning to and one I am ready to receive. (You can read more about my dreams for 2018 in this post here).
My creative practice has been developing beautifully and I am excited about writing. While I have always written when I decided I wanted it to be my career it became harder. Every ounce of my being revolts at the idea of doing anything for money even if it’s something I love to do.
This past week I developed a perspective shift in relation to my writing. I have decided to not think about it as an income earner but rather an activity that in and of itself is its own reward. Wow, there’s a thought, isn’t it? What if we all shifted our thoughts toward completing tasks that were in and of themselves a reward. Something we were able to find joy in without looking for the reward at the end of a long, hard day. I have decided to make my craft my passion once more.
I started a swipe book this week for story, blog and workshop ideas and in true me fashion I made it in a junk journal I received as part of a swap. It’s chunky, full of color and perfect for slapping ideas all over the place as I express the creativity within. I am not going to lie, it’s lots of fun.
This blog post never made it to the swipe book and instead I was thinking about my new found writing routine. I have been writing about one post a day and it had me thinking about the difference between routine and rhythm. Perhaps it is simply semantics but the concept of a rhythm feels much better to me. In my life whenever I sat down and created a new routine for myself I could pretty much guarantee it’s failure inside of a week.
In fact, my rebellion against anything that resembles a routine is so deep that even if I added something I was already doing every day to the routine it would immediately be forgotten the day after. I have found this aspect of my personality both interesting, infuriating and triggering all at once. Lately, however, I have begun to embrace all aspects of myself and recognizing and appreciating the power they each have.
The truth is routine is fundamentally against my nature. By my definition routine completely negates any human need and rather works only for the survival of the routine. In my own experience, those around me that were “routine people” gave little or no thought to their needs at any given moment and focused instead on their routine. While I often admired this trait in others, I can see now that for some, focusing on a routine is much easier than focusing on the ever-changing needs of the self.
Since I have accepted my complete inability to develop and maintain any routine for any length of time, I wondered why my new writing practice felt so amazing to me. It was then I realized that my writing practice wasn’t a routine but rather a rhythm.
Rhythm allows for change, it flows and bends and moves with its surroundings. Routine is rigid, inflexible and holds its shape regardless of what’s around it. When you find your creative rhythm you are able to hold what’s important to you and allow for what comes up. You are able to recognize what is most important on a large scale and then choose within the movement of the day what needs your attention now.
Of course, we need both in life. We need those amazing soles who are out there shoveling snow at 9 am with a fever of 101 because “it needs to be done.” We also need those of us who are able to move, bend and shape to what the situation currently needs. It is truly a dance when you are the creative soul. Dancing within the fluid of the moment while still trying to meet the needs of the physical is a challenge that must be met by us creatives. When you learn to balance the needs of the physical with the needs of the creative soul, is when you find your purpose.
Here’s to honoring the dance.