Virginia Woolf’s premise—that a woman needs money and a room of her own to write—is certainly true for anyone who creates. Having enough money and your own space gives you precious, uninterrupted time—and a place to focus.
Stretches of time are essential to my writing, if I’m going to go deep enough. The more “little” things that interrupt my day, the harder it is for me to tap into my creativity.
I started today feeling creative. On my morning walk with my dog, I thought about what I might write about in this blog post. Then I had a routine health appointment, and after that, a grocery store trip. And then, I navigated traffic to get home, and made lunch.
Now, here I am, trying to get back to where I was hours ago. If I imagine my mental space to write as its own landscape with a map, can I get back to where I was?
Backtracking sometimes works. Taking another walk would probably do it. But it’s 100 degrees Fahrenheit outside. So instead, I’m sitting at my desk in an office of my own, enjoying the rotating fan that helps me weather my hot flashes!
When you can’t backtrack, take another path.
Yesterday, as I sweltered in the hot, humid yoga studio, the teacher said that heat is transformative. Her comment stayed with me, because when I’m experiencing intense change and growth, I often think of myself as “being cooked.” When I’m completely submerged in it, I call it “being in the soup.”
Following my thread of thought, from uninterrupted time and space to the heat of transformation, what do I find there?
A single bead of sweat, clinging to the end of the thread, like a jewel.
When I look through that clear sphere of water, I see shapes distorted. I am reminded of a snow globe, with a tiny world inside, curving inward.
So if my mind is a map, and it curves back on itself, I realize that even when I think I’ve lost an idea, or a description, it’s still there, cooking, breaking down, re-forming, and blooming in warm, rich soil.
In the end, if I stay with it long enough, something emerges.
If you don’t have uninterrupted time, and a place to create your art, it’s up to you to make that happen. And when life interrupts, wander the paths of your own mind. Root around in the soil.
Keep going!
Something will turn up, I promise you.
