Hello magical humans!
I have a dear friend who today called me her “positive reinforcement accountability buddy.” Which had me absolutely glowing with pride. That is a title I will wear with honor.
Something both of us have been working on is how much hustle culture/productivity porn/our decades spent in theater and academia have ingrained some really mushy and not great approaches to boundaries.
I’m happy to report that we are both in recovery, but alas, we are also both human, at least mostly, and thus still struggle with old habits and reflexes we’ve outgrown.
Which brings me to the metaphor I came here to share with you today:
Garden not Factory
This is a new central metaphor of my approach to both my creative practice and life, in general.
Gardens require cultivation and work. There are seasons when there is a lot to be done. There are plants the require watering, there are weeds that must be pulled, no matter how pretty they are, if they are endangering the health and well-being of the garden as a whole. And there are also seasons when you need to leave the garden the fuck alone.
I’ve been working with seasonality for a few years with a greater degree of intention. Human Design was part of a the cosmic permission that helped me understand that I work in spurts (Manifestor) and change immensely over my lifetime (6/3 profile in that second life phase of my 6 line). If all of that was gibberish, don’t worry about it. My point is that I’ve spent several years very intentionally focusing on letting my life exist seasonally. Even if those seasons are somewhat out of step with the seasons we are experiencing culturally.
But now I’m trying to work with that self-knowledge and turn it into habits and behaviors that center patience, self-compassion, and ease. Perhaps my only true resolution for 2022 is attempting to let it be easier to be inside my own head. So, garden, not factory.
Factories produce. They aim at consistency. There are inspections and processes that often must remain quite rigid.
Each time I think I’ve figured out my creative process, I bump into a new project that requires me to take a new approach. I think the only constant of my process at this stage is creating the necessary space for it to be able to change.
I just turned in the latest revision of my middle grade fantasy novel to my agent a couple weeks ago. That was some MAJOR weeding, and required planting quite a few new seeds. It was hard work, but it was FUN and I’m so proud of where the book is now.
I’m now in the process of starting a brand new book. A new world. A new magic system. Brand new characters and places and belief systems that I’m dreaming into being. It is such a different experience than revision. The potential seeds to plant are infinite and so many choices have to be made. And I’m struggling. I’m still in revision mode.
So today I tried to slow down a bit and remember that my life is a garden. It is allowed to be messy and non-linear. It isn’t supposed to be in constant bloom. Some days are harder than others. Some seasons feel more fruitful.
Here’s to making cultivation, ease, and seasonality habits. And continuing the process of unraveling my productivity from my worth.
Wishing you a wonderful wander in your own creative garden, no matter what season it might be in.
Trust your magic,
Clare
This is the third time I've heard a garden metaphor in the past few days from people I admire! Thank you for this and for being another sign 🌸