Night Driving, fabrics, 12x13in. Jude Spacks '99Endlessness Have you ever had a project that dragged on and on, like a nightmare road trip? Constant whining comes from the backseat, "Are we there yet?" Far from it. No grand finale appears around the bend, no billboards full of accolades. Sure, you could toss the whole thing out the window into the litter of false-starts and almost-dones beside the road, but you've already put so much into it.... "Are we there yet?" Did we miss a turn somewhere, the way to a fulfilling creative life? How'd we wind up running on empty on a back road to nowhere, cranky and out of ideas? What drives us on to the finish, anyway? What slows us down? Danger: Judgment Ahead Embarking on a creative journey can bring a grace period of pure potential. The work feels open and fluid. It seems too soon to evaluate and not too late to change. But as completion approaches, the form solidifies and seems fixed. Judgments from within and without more easily grab hold. Trying to protect against potential criticism can lead to the wheel spinning of perfectionism. When I taught elementary school art, I sometimes saw even very young children consumed with intense hatred for what they'd made. Nothing I'd say about loving their work could keep them from wanting to destroy it. I have recognized the same tendency in myself. I don't violently shred something that didn't come out the way I wanted, but the threat of disappointment and criticism from myself still feels painful. The possibility of rejection, misunderstanding or indifference from others adds to the fear of finishing. Meanwhile fear of the possible negative consequences of not finishing pressures us to get on with it. Fear makes it hard to maintain openness and zest for the work right through to the end. Fear of failure might goad us towards completion, but it holds us back, too. 'Hope is as Hollow as Fear' Hope of success might be driving us to finish, too. What do you hope getting done will give you? Maybe there will be rewards, but does wanting them really help you get there? Is running after a carrot of success any more effective than fleeing a stick of fear? When I'm frustrated with trying to finish something, I tend to believe that I can't have peace, freedom and fun until this thing gets done. (And I can't have dessert 'til I eat my veggies, either). If I focus on hope for a future utopia of All Done, I reject my current condition. I divide myself. Attention disconnects from the present, where the source of creativity always lives. No wonder the tank feels empty, like I'm running on the fumes of some earlier impulse that has abandoned me. My own thinking does the abandoning, by leaving now for an imaginary later. |
"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear. What does it mean that success is as dangerous as failure? Whether you go up the ladder or down it, your position is shaky. When you stand with your two feet on the ground, you will always keep your balance." --Tao de Ching, Stephen Mitchell, trans |
| Finding the Ground What I call PressureHead--the state of mind that believes it has to keep hiking on that ladder--makes a misery out of the journey of creating. When I'm in PressureHead, I simply cannot find a genuine flow of creativity to coast on to a satisfactory ending. I cannot fake, force or figure my way out of this fact. Then I notice that I am not in charge. I am not the Creativity Queen, commanding my inner muse to cough up a conclusion, under threat of fear or lure of hope. Well, that's a relief. My feet touch the ground of reality, and I can start taking one humble step at a time again. Some things that help me get off the imagined ladder and onto the ground of being: Remembering the body and sensing its energy--stretching, conscious breathing, movement. Doing something else for a while, preferably outside--taking a real break. Or a nap. Doing The Work on the thoughts, hopes and fears that created PressureHead, to find out if they reflect reality or are actually only made up. What For? I got very frustrated in the finishing stages of a fabric hanging recently. I worked doggedly for days trying to get it to lie flat against the wall, and it wouldn't. I told myself it didn't really matter, but the part of me that was determined to get it right took no comfort from that. PressureHead was about ready to blow her stack. I remembered that the pain is in the brain, not the circumstances-- that stubborn artwork couldn't really be causing my aggravation, only my thinking about it could do that. So I asked myself what I thought it meant if the piece continued to billow out on one side. Well, isn't it obvious? It meant that I was incompetent and unprofessional, and people would make fun of me behind my back. It was all about my self-image, and trying to prove I was ok. After doing The Work on these and related thoughts, I realized that I actually had nothing to lose and nothing to gain from finishing or not finishing, from doing it well or poorly, from getting my way or not. I was incompetent at prevailing over the physics of heavy paint on light fabric. So sue me! I'm already ok anyway. And if people make fun of me, I hope they enjoy it. With that release of self-image, a realer self reappeared. I fell back in love with the artwork. I felt infused with an enthusiasm made of total indifference to outcome. Of course, completion came easily then. Someone asked me at the show how I had gotten the piece to billow in that wonderful way--she loved how that added to its movement. Integrity When you're struggling to finish something, you might ask yourself: if you knew you had nothing to lose and nothing to gain, would you still do it? If you answer no, maybe it's time to consider ditching the project. If you simply quit, voila, that makes it done! You can go out and play. Or you could choose to continue, motivated by what you believe you stand to gain or lose. If you answer yes, you've rediscovered the freedom of a deeper motivation than the reward/punishment tricks the mind uses to feel in control. The same untamable creative source that started the project rolling is still here, whole, always new. It provides just what your project needs, but only in the present moment, when you've given up on the win/lose game. You may not enjoy every minute of your finishing-up work--most adventures have their share of hardships, calling for stamina and fortitude. But when you reconnect with that ground of integrity in yourself, you will love your creation like the precious child of your heart that it is, flaws and all.... Are we there yet? Nope, we're still here. "There is no there there."--Gertrude Stein |
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