Got to create the vibe , aloud yourself to be it before anything else, marinate see where the flavors take you, maybe its turnout, maybe you get over cook but can't there if you bailout for the juices start flowing...
So...many memories of this phenomenon - what initially comes to mind was training as a medical technologist at a VA. Phlebotomy was my first course and needless to say that was a dance of skill and kindness. I then worked in cancer research. Dancing in the lab with mice, rats and rabbits then performing analyses with a type of electrophoresis that used glass plates. In later years, a beautiful dance I learned was serving as a mentor in a women's prison. My first visit was awkward, intimidating, yet my feet navigated and my heart attached. Perhaps the dance that has felt the most challenging is parenting, giving birth in my late 30s, learning the dance of love in infancy, childhood, adolescence, young adult, and now dancing with our daughter as an adult. Each stage cultivates growth of heart, mind and soul. Oh and so many more dances I have attempted. The ones I walk away, usually after 15 minutes, are social encounters. Yet, those experiences also are lessons of the heart, mind and soul. Thank you for this question to ponder. Blessings.
This absolutely resonates. When I try to start a composition or make progress on one I've already worked on, it takes a bit of time to find a starting point I'm satisfied with and don't want to delete within five or so minutes. I try to be patient with myself during this process and remind myself that all composers, writers, creative people in general go through the same thing, and to have fun with the process because I might end up discovering something fun.
As a Couples Therapist, I have had to learn to sit with discomfort and disconnect and hold people in that space. I would say that patience, deeply attuned listening and the commitment and care in the process of figuring out how to connect- ie. the qualities that working through conflict well demands- matter almost as much as the end point of connection itself. Those qualities prove someone to be trustworthy to show up well when it's tough.
I don’t know about giving up in the first 30 minutes as quite often I find it difficult to get started in the first place. Often when I think about starting something it seems complicated and confusing, and the more I think about it the more difficult it feels, so it gets shelved but then is constantly nagging at me to be done.
My solution is to break tasks or projects down into smaller, more achievable parts that don’t create such a cognitive load, and then I can work through one bit at a time. Usually things are not half as complex as I thought and don’t take as long as I imagined.
I guess it’s just a psychological block and if we can get our mind out of the way and just start something, usually it just gets done. It’s about getting into that flow state and leaving our mind behind. I find that doing art, I stop thinking about everything else and just go with it.
Very true in my experience as well. I am fortunate to have several years of surfing/board riding with my sons that required early morning starts, driving to foggy Northern California beaches, wetsuits that never seemed to fully dry, and yes - very cold water. Every time, the feeling of "being back again" would bolster us as we would silently enter the frigid surf, saying "Okay, if this doesn't get better in 20 minutes, we're out of here!" All would all nod, grunt agreement and continue, always resulting in several hours of surfing with all of the priceless adventure, stories and camaraderie that followed.
Thank you, Susan, for such a supportive message remark! I can relate totally relate to it - any creative activity like dance or singing never starts with a proper warm up and while muscles and/or vocal cords are prepared, these preparatory exercises also help me to arrive at the task at hand, e.g. no longer think about other stuff on the list, left unfinished etc. It’s formalised practice for those activities but I’ve noticed during my work that what sometimes makes it hard, is not so much the content itself but my attitude towards it, e.g. giving up early because I cannot understand immediately, the language is odd, it seems complex etc. - however, for most cases, perseverance is key and without the self-inflicted avoidances, I could have finished something oh so complex quite quickly. . . - it’s not that I’m managing completely, but this insight has made a difference, humbling myself and now starting low key rather, step by step.
Yes! I've finally come to accept that for me, writing involves a not-writing period. Not-writing feels more accurate than pre-writing, because there is more up-and-down out of the chair, wiping of countertops and reviewing of lists than actual assembling of words, I have slowly come to accept and, on good days, even appreciate this preparatory phase. Over time it's gotten shorter but no less necessary.
I think it is different to procrastination. Creativity needs time to percolate, time to let ideas and connections bubble up and form into something more cohesive before the creative endeavour begins. Ben Swindell has written about this on Medium.
This resonates a lot for me, Susan. Back in my musician days, the first 20–30 minutes were dedicated to warming up body and mind: practice long tones (produce one tone for a full breath to warm up the diaphragm), then slow scales (getting the feel of the clarinet's keys under my fingers), then faster scales and other technical exercises before diving into actual "music."
Funnily enough, I had a difficult time showing myself the same grace in warming up when I first dedicated myself to writing. The fear of not getting anything on the page forced me to sit down and dive in immediately. Now I've been able to build in a mental warmup before putting fingers to keyboard, whether it's listening to the music I'm writing about or taking a few minutes to slow down the mind and invite thoughts to spring forth.
Even still, I need to remind myself to make time for this warmup!
So interesting that the 'warm-up' stage to dance has a name (and could be applied widely). I often find it with movies (to my husband "are we ready to bail?")--and books, and trouble getting started with work projects (which I can't abandon but want to). I agree with Ralph below--I was thinking "this is flow state" as I was reading the essay. It's a wonderful state to be in if you convince yourself it's worth it even if the habit/task is old, as new is always hard. I have this on the bottom of my work email currently-I try to change them up: "Imperfect action is better than perfect inaction." - Harry Truman. As a thriving professional woman with a late in life ADHD diagnosis--truer words were never spoken. Thanks for shining another light of inspiration on the every day, Susan.
Yes! I've found this is also true with service opportunities. I volunteer for a couple of hours certain evenings. I've been at it a whole year, but the first stretch is still consistently awkward: small talk/where are the supplies?/I thought you were bringing supplies this time/when can I finish cleaning up and quietly slip out?, etc. Bittersweetly, the service evening is over before I ever hit my stride.
Reassuring to learn that even what we excel at or love to do takes a full half hour of warmup laps every single time. thanks, Susan.
When I was a programmer, I became aware of research about flow and interruption. The story that illustrated the findings back then was this:
We need, on average, 15 minutes to get into a flow state. The average number of telephone calls in an IT department at the time was 4-5 per hour and office. If these phone calls had been evenly distributed, flow state would have been successfully made impossible.
At the time, many phone calls happened before and after lunch and before the end of the day. Imagine what is happening today.
To even have 30 minutes of pre-dance is a privilege we usually do not even allow ourselves, but when we do around something we love, we can experience this flow state.
I experience this more and more in my life, directly proportional to the number of distractions I eliminate.
Absolutely need a warm-up for everything I do creatively and athletically. It’s like taking my temperature as to where my head is. For running it’s that first mile, swimming it’s my first 500 yards doing drills, art it is doodling or sketching before ever picking up a paintbrush. Those nuggets of time will tell me whether I should continue or cut a session short. Either way, just jumping into the proverbial deep-end is not my best entry point for anything.
I have this happen with writing, but once I get what Scott Barry Kaufman calls "in flow," the words come out quickly. I transcribed a recorded interview of three people yesterday which was my only goal at the moment with plans to finish the story later. Next thing I knew, I had a rough draft written and it won't take more than a few minutes to finish the story. I have to turn my mind off from other distractions to get in flow.
Got to create the vibe , aloud yourself to be it before anything else, marinate see where the flavors take you, maybe its turnout, maybe you get over cook but can't there if you bailout for the juices start flowing...
So...many memories of this phenomenon - what initially comes to mind was training as a medical technologist at a VA. Phlebotomy was my first course and needless to say that was a dance of skill and kindness. I then worked in cancer research. Dancing in the lab with mice, rats and rabbits then performing analyses with a type of electrophoresis that used glass plates. In later years, a beautiful dance I learned was serving as a mentor in a women's prison. My first visit was awkward, intimidating, yet my feet navigated and my heart attached. Perhaps the dance that has felt the most challenging is parenting, giving birth in my late 30s, learning the dance of love in infancy, childhood, adolescence, young adult, and now dancing with our daughter as an adult. Each stage cultivates growth of heart, mind and soul. Oh and so many more dances I have attempted. The ones I walk away, usually after 15 minutes, are social encounters. Yet, those experiences also are lessons of the heart, mind and soul. Thank you for this question to ponder. Blessings.
Yes, so true! I just started learning to play the ukulele and the first few minutes are the hardest until I hit my groove.
This absolutely resonates. When I try to start a composition or make progress on one I've already worked on, it takes a bit of time to find a starting point I'm satisfied with and don't want to delete within five or so minutes. I try to be patient with myself during this process and remind myself that all composers, writers, creative people in general go through the same thing, and to have fun with the process because I might end up discovering something fun.
As a Couples Therapist, I have had to learn to sit with discomfort and disconnect and hold people in that space. I would say that patience, deeply attuned listening and the commitment and care in the process of figuring out how to connect- ie. the qualities that working through conflict well demands- matter almost as much as the end point of connection itself. Those qualities prove someone to be trustworthy to show up well when it's tough.
The starting is the hardest part.
I don’t know about giving up in the first 30 minutes as quite often I find it difficult to get started in the first place. Often when I think about starting something it seems complicated and confusing, and the more I think about it the more difficult it feels, so it gets shelved but then is constantly nagging at me to be done.
My solution is to break tasks or projects down into smaller, more achievable parts that don’t create such a cognitive load, and then I can work through one bit at a time. Usually things are not half as complex as I thought and don’t take as long as I imagined.
I guess it’s just a psychological block and if we can get our mind out of the way and just start something, usually it just gets done. It’s about getting into that flow state and leaving our mind behind. I find that doing art, I stop thinking about everything else and just go with it.
Very true in my experience as well. I am fortunate to have several years of surfing/board riding with my sons that required early morning starts, driving to foggy Northern California beaches, wetsuits that never seemed to fully dry, and yes - very cold water. Every time, the feeling of "being back again" would bolster us as we would silently enter the frigid surf, saying "Okay, if this doesn't get better in 20 minutes, we're out of here!" All would all nod, grunt agreement and continue, always resulting in several hours of surfing with all of the priceless adventure, stories and camaraderie that followed.
Thank you, Susan, for such a supportive message remark! I can relate totally relate to it - any creative activity like dance or singing never starts with a proper warm up and while muscles and/or vocal cords are prepared, these preparatory exercises also help me to arrive at the task at hand, e.g. no longer think about other stuff on the list, left unfinished etc. It’s formalised practice for those activities but I’ve noticed during my work that what sometimes makes it hard, is not so much the content itself but my attitude towards it, e.g. giving up early because I cannot understand immediately, the language is odd, it seems complex etc. - however, for most cases, perseverance is key and without the self-inflicted avoidances, I could have finished something oh so complex quite quickly. . . - it’s not that I’m managing completely, but this insight has made a difference, humbling myself and now starting low key rather, step by step.
Thank you for the pictures - they are gorgeous!
Yes! I've finally come to accept that for me, writing involves a not-writing period. Not-writing feels more accurate than pre-writing, because there is more up-and-down out of the chair, wiping of countertops and reviewing of lists than actual assembling of words, I have slowly come to accept and, on good days, even appreciate this preparatory phase. Over time it's gotten shorter but no less necessary.
ME TOO re the not-writing period! It feels like procrastination that I should really be able to grow out of, but maybe it's something else entirely.
I think it is different to procrastination. Creativity needs time to percolate, time to let ideas and connections bubble up and form into something more cohesive before the creative endeavour begins. Ben Swindell has written about this on Medium.
This resonates a lot for me, Susan. Back in my musician days, the first 20–30 minutes were dedicated to warming up body and mind: practice long tones (produce one tone for a full breath to warm up the diaphragm), then slow scales (getting the feel of the clarinet's keys under my fingers), then faster scales and other technical exercises before diving into actual "music."
Funnily enough, I had a difficult time showing myself the same grace in warming up when I first dedicated myself to writing. The fear of not getting anything on the page forced me to sit down and dive in immediately. Now I've been able to build in a mental warmup before putting fingers to keyboard, whether it's listening to the music I'm writing about or taking a few minutes to slow down the mind and invite thoughts to spring forth.
Even still, I need to remind myself to make time for this warmup!
So interesting that the 'warm-up' stage to dance has a name (and could be applied widely). I often find it with movies (to my husband "are we ready to bail?")--and books, and trouble getting started with work projects (which I can't abandon but want to). I agree with Ralph below--I was thinking "this is flow state" as I was reading the essay. It's a wonderful state to be in if you convince yourself it's worth it even if the habit/task is old, as new is always hard. I have this on the bottom of my work email currently-I try to change them up: "Imperfect action is better than perfect inaction." - Harry Truman. As a thriving professional woman with a late in life ADHD diagnosis--truer words were never spoken. Thanks for shining another light of inspiration on the every day, Susan.
such a good point that this also applies to being the CONSUMER of the creative process - ie the reader/movie watcher!
Yes! I've found this is also true with service opportunities. I volunteer for a couple of hours certain evenings. I've been at it a whole year, but the first stretch is still consistently awkward: small talk/where are the supplies?/I thought you were bringing supplies this time/when can I finish cleaning up and quietly slip out?, etc. Bittersweetly, the service evening is over before I ever hit my stride.
Reassuring to learn that even what we excel at or love to do takes a full half hour of warmup laps every single time. thanks, Susan.
When I was a programmer, I became aware of research about flow and interruption. The story that illustrated the findings back then was this:
We need, on average, 15 minutes to get into a flow state. The average number of telephone calls in an IT department at the time was 4-5 per hour and office. If these phone calls had been evenly distributed, flow state would have been successfully made impossible.
At the time, many phone calls happened before and after lunch and before the end of the day. Imagine what is happening today.
To even have 30 minutes of pre-dance is a privilege we usually do not even allow ourselves, but when we do around something we love, we can experience this flow state.
I experience this more and more in my life, directly proportional to the number of distractions I eliminate.
Absolutely need a warm-up for everything I do creatively and athletically. It’s like taking my temperature as to where my head is. For running it’s that first mile, swimming it’s my first 500 yards doing drills, art it is doodling or sketching before ever picking up a paintbrush. Those nuggets of time will tell me whether I should continue or cut a session short. Either way, just jumping into the proverbial deep-end is not my best entry point for anything.
I have this happen with writing, but once I get what Scott Barry Kaufman calls "in flow," the words come out quickly. I transcribed a recorded interview of three people yesterday which was my only goal at the moment with plans to finish the story later. Next thing I knew, I had a rough draft written and it won't take more than a few minutes to finish the story. I have to turn my mind off from other distractions to get in flow.