Conditions of Creativity – BoldSoulCoaching.com

Hello dearest one,

It’s a double header this week.

Firstly, and EXCITEDLY, one of my articles was published on elephant journal. It’s one of my faves and I was delighted they liked it too. I’ve included a snippet, as well as the link to read the whole thing, below.

Secondly, I share a piece about how the process of making art works (or doesn’t) in my experience.

I hope either or both add some awareness, delight and self-acceptance into your beautiful life.

With love and giddiness,

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NAILING YOGA

Originally published on elephant journal.

When I walked into my first yoga class over 25 years ago, I nailed it.

I use that term, as un-yogic as it is, for a reason: It’s what I felt.

My ultra-fit dancer’s body was more than capable of reaching, twisting and balancing in any position my teacher requested. It wasn’t always easy. But it was almost always possible.

I had no way of knowing, at that point, that torquing my hip so that I could lift my leg higher wasn’t actually what was supposed to happen. It slid past my awareness that my ‘whatever it takes’ attitude was counter to the heart of yoga.

Nonetheless, I was consistently praised for my abilities and encouraged, very early on, to pursue teaching.

To keep my carefully crafted superiority intact, I avoided, as much as possible, teaching anyone who did not have advanced asana practice. Bodies with constraints were not my thing.

Then the inevitable happened.

Continue reading here…

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CONDITIONS OF CREATIVITY

I was on the grounds of the Garrison Institute, attending a creative retreat on a surprisingly hot summer day. I had been instructed, by a well-known photographer, to capture the light through a camera I barely knew how to use.

There were other people around, attempting to capture their own light, but no one near me. I could sense bodies coming and going, like the bees around the lavender patch, but my lack of attention kept them out of focus.

The day had reached its midpoint and the sun was scorching. I could smell and taste the heat. Relief lived in the shady corners, which, unfortunately, held no photographic interest. To capture the beauty is to put oneself into the fire.

The sweat dripped down my back as I searched for a worthy subject, the bees intent on getting my attention. Yes, I said to no one. But how to capture the unpredictable movements, the scales of grand field, large bush, tiny bugs? Mostly, I worried they would smell me and find me more appealing than the aromatic lavender. I realized that that was ridiculous and continued behind my camera lens.

The entire Universe shrunk down to my breath, their buzz, and the click click click of my shutter.

A particular bee, with a bulbously beautiful body, captured me as I attempted to capture him. The back of my neck was burning, my eyes were losing their focus, I was barely able to stand the heat.

And yet, I was as absorbed as I had ever been in the bee’s movements. Why was he doing what he was doing? What did he think of my observation? Did I enter his awareness? Who was I… to him?

The sun won and I retreated. The bee, I’m sure, went about his day, not only in the lavender bush, but also in my camera and in my thoughts.

Perhaps because that day lives in pictures, or perhaps because I left before the call was fully answered, it has stayed with me. It is a reminder.

There will always be…

comings and goings,
an invitation,
hot pressure that demands your surrender,
fierce uncertainty that questions everything.

With all this going on, how will you make your art anyway?

What heat will you bear to fully answer the call?