3 Tips to Enrich Your Creativity

Flower pattern fabric

I usually post my blog every Tuesday. But yesterday I was just uninspired.

I didn’t want to write my blog.

Whenever I find myself resisting and rebelling, it usually means I’ve neglected some part of myself that wants and needs expression.

When I’m blocked, I write—by hand—about how I’m feeling. There’s something about putting pen to paper that re-starts the flow for me. (Especially if I’m using a favorite fountain pen, with beautiful teal ink!)

This morning, I surprised myself: I wrote that I wanted more time for my creativity to gestate.

Just as a field needs to lie fallow for the soil to be restored, creativity needs that time, too. I don’t know if it’s the time of year—fall is approaching—but I’m aware of the need to stop doing so much, to let my deeper work develop.

If the change in light, the cooler nights, or simply your own inner season is telling you to slow down, here are three tips to support yourself while you’re enriching your creativity.

1. Let Go of Expectations

When you’re in a creative gestation, you need to let go of your expectations of yourself. Life and creativity aren’t about being productive 24/7. They both require rest and play.

If you ignore that need, and demand of yourself that you constantly produce—and that it’s always “perfect”—you’re abusing your creativity. You’ll burn out, just like soil leeched of nutrients.

Forcing yourself to be productive is fruitless. Let go.

2. Listen to Your Whispering Voice

You know what to do; you just have to give yourself the time and space to hear yourself clearly.

Turn off the TV, put away your phone, and unplug the computer. Get outside and take a walk by yourself. Notice things. Stop and look up at the leaves on the trees. Pay attention to the ground beneath your feet. Take in the scents around you. What do you hear?

Journal with no end in mind: just see what flows from your fingertips, and follow your inner wisdom.

3. Seek Out What Inspires You

Go to a play, a concert, a reading, an exhibition. Read literature. Go to a great, old book store and browse. Sit in a chair and sample a book or two. Read a poem.

Resist the tyranny of a clean house. Regardless of whether dust lies on the table, time is passing. Inspire your spirit first.

Let other kindred spirits, who have tapped into their own wells, help you tap into yours. Replenish your creative soil—and your soul.

And remember—be kind to yourself!

Letter to a Wild, Sensitive, Creative Soul

Blue cornflowers on white paper

To you who sees beauty, both within—and hidden behind—this world.

Tree under cloudy sky

… who is moved by leaves quivering in the wind before a storm.

… who feels what is real versus pretense in another, when they walk into a room—and who loves their realness, even when it is masked.

… who stops to help a lost dog find her way home, and who loves more deeply than she can express.

To you, whose alignment with her inner compass is strong and true.

Monarch butterfly in flight

… whose creativity flutters like the wings of butterflies, with too many ideas to catch in the net of her mind.

… whose focus on an object, or an idea, makes her lose all sense of time, as she captures her vision—in words, in paint, in clay—in her chosen art form.

I know that a fierce love fuels your particular genius.

I know that when you are fully present and engaged, your calling to create is a kind of prayer.

I know that you create from a deep place, tapped into the mysteries and potentials of the unseen world.

I know that your need—to express how you experience the world—allows us to see through the lens of your unique spirit.

To the wild, sensitive, creative soul reading these words:   Thank you!

Violin sitting on table

Your sensitivity is like a finely-tuned violin; what touches those strings brings forth a song that only you can sing for us.

You were born to do this—to share your voice, your mind, and your passion!

The world needs your gifts.

Is this Guy Your Muse?

Chubby guy in cherub costume

He might be. Especially if you’re writing comedy!

He’s not mine—except perhaps for the little bit of whimsy he’s bringing to this blog post.

So if he’s not your muse, who is? What is  a muse, anyway?

A muse is the personification of inspiration and energy that comes from—somewhere.

Whether you think it comes from the divine, the universe, your intuition, your subconscious, or the All Night Diner for Dancing Giraffes—it doesn’t matter. It’s real, and you know it when you’re plugged in to your muse.

Maybe you wake up at 3 AM and invent a painting technique that better enables you to represent the texture of a tree trunk—and you just have to get up and try it!

Or you stay up past 3 AM, writing a story that flows from you in a river of purple ink. It’s exciting and a little dizzying, because you feel so alive. You may be directing the story a little, but the characters are mostly leading you to places that you never thought they’d go. Each scene is a discovery!

Of all the types of creative expression I practice, writing is my deep calling. I used to think inspiration would strike like a bolt of lightning. I would hear angels singing, as they floated to earth with pithy phrases and perfectly-formed literary sentences.

Over time, I began to think of writing as work. Not in the good sense—when I’m deeply engaged and working hard on something meaningful—but in the not-so-good: slogging through flat ideas and flat sentences.

Then I realized that I need to have a relationship with my muse. I have to nourish her with walks in nature and trips to the art museum, with summer concerts in the park and playing with watercolors.

And guess what? The more I feed my creativity, the more inspiration and enthusiasm I have to express.

And that makes all the difference.

What Matters to You?

Little girl offering red fuzzy heart

Last weekend, I attended Rick Tamlyn’s “Play Your Bigger Game” retreat.

“Bigger” is all about finding and doing your good work in the world.

“Game” refers to the tool.

You’re always on the “playing board,” and you can choose which step to take next—without beating yourself up about where you happen to be at the moment. Once you learn it, you never have to be “stuck” again.

I can’t wait to use this tool with my clients!

My husband came to the retreat with me. This morning, as we were discussing the retreat—and the grounded soul of someone he feels called to work with—things about my own work clicked into place for me.

Compassion is a way of deeply seeing

I’ve always tried to reflect back their beauty and worth to others, and encourage them to live the lives that are most meaningful to them.

I try to look at others through the lens of what I imagine God looks through. When I choose that perspective—often unconsciously—I see  the person I’m engaging with. Judgment may not completely fall away, but compassion reveals their inner light.

Each of us is unique. Yet each of us has more in common with everyone else than we realize. That’s why sharing our gifts is so powerful. It’s both distinctive—adding perspective—and connecting—creating a bridge between your perspective and mine.

We all want and need connection

Elephants with trunks intertwined

Creativity is an important way to connect with others. It opens a window between the worlds of the creator and the appreciator.

When I look at the sunflowers carved into my favorite mug, I see the movement of the potter’s hands baked into clay. There’s a little bit of soul in that mug.

When I read an essay by a writer who struggled through her own doubts and trials, who distilled her wisdom into clear, strong words, I see new possibilities.

In both experiences—looking at my mug and reading an essay—I am enriched.

Listen! I can’t say this enough.

You have a purpose and meaning in this world. Share it. Connect. Be real. We need you!

There are many ways to love the world. What is yours?


Check out the Bigger Game
and Rick’s book, Play Your Bigger Game.

Take Time to Rejuvenate

Woman's feet with flowers in toes

A little over a week ago, I hosted a day-long creativity retreat. It was about reconnecting with your “muse”—a personification of inspiration and imagination—to jump-start your creative projects.

It was wonderful and magical, and lots of fun! And I loved creating the retreat.

As a sensitive and introverted entrepreneur, I’m still learning how to pace myself. Just like with any creative endeavor, I need to strike a balance between being and doing.

As I began to design the retreat, I tapped into my own muse—big time! Some nights, I was up until 3 AM, buzzing with ideas and details of what I was going to do.

The work was exciting, inspirational, and fun! But after that sustained burst of creativity, after completing that lovely day with other super-creative souls, I needed time to rejuvenate, to refill my well.

I’m just now getting back into my creative space, after the retreat and a week of traveling.

And I’m reminding you what I’m reminding myself. Pay attention to how you feel and what your body is telling you. It’s essential to take a break when you need it. Trying to “force” creativity never works.

So when your well is getting low, put up your feet, stick some daisies between your toes, lean back into the cool grass and feel the warm sun on your face, and daydream. Watch the clouds change shape. Listen to the birds singing.

Let your well fill up again.