In the beginning of June, I started slipping into what I called a creative depression. Fueled by burnout and the pandemic, it felt like a slow leak at first, the creativity dripping out of my body like a leaky faucet. With all this home time (due to the pandemic), I pushed myself into virtual workshops and webinars, thinking NOW IS THE TIME TO DO ALL THE CREATIVE THINGS. PUSH, PUSH, PUSH TOWARD YOUR GOALS. And then my creative ego took a hit with a hurtful critique experience, and the faucet burst, expelling my creative spirit and energy out of my body like a tidal wave.
A couple weeks ago, I realized that with all the home time, I had no separation between work-me and creative-me anymore. Before the pandemic, I went to an office where I did my work things (for the most part). Then I would come home, where I would do my creative things. There was physical and mental space and separation for both of those pieces of me, and they were (relatively) happy and in balance within their own environments.
Now, with working from home for the foreseeable future, everything happens in the same room, in the same physical space. The space I built to foster writing and creativity is now my full time work office. And while I’ve tried to design separate spaces in the same room for day-job work and creative work, the day-job work has taken over like the invasive grass overtaking my front yard garden.
But it’s not just about the physical space. It’s also the mental state that the physical space represents and enables to thrive. Just like work space and creative space, there’s work-me and creative-me mental states. Work-me is confident in what she does, is successful at what she does, knows exactly what she needs to do to progress.
Creative-me, on the other hand, lacks confidence. She doesn’t always know how to progress her creative work and she certainly doesn’t feel successful.
Work-me requires more mental and emotional energy than creative-me, so she dominates. She uses up all the reserves I have, and pushes creative-me out. Creative-me has little confidence or energy to take any of that space back.
So I’m caught in a battle. A competition. Two sides of me wanting control. Both running on fumes. Both fighting for space to exist and thrive.
But as much as I feel caught in the middle of tug of war, with no control over which side pulls me to victory or ends in defeat, I also need to see my role in this situation for what it is.
The objective truth is that I have a choice.
Yes, work-me is dominant and confident and stubborn and I can let her take up all the physical and mental space and energy I have for the rest of forever...
Or
Also dyed my hair teal to spark creative joy because why not?
I can choose to say, “You know what? For five minutes today, I'm not going to let dominant work-me push me away from what’s important. For five minutes today, creative-me gets the mental and physical space she needs.”
Five minutes may not seem like a lot. But five minutes every day for months adds up. Or maybe it’s five minutes one day and ten another. The point is, that choice is mine. No matter how confident or dominating parts of me may be, I can acknowledge those commanding traits and still decide to do the opposite of what they’re demanding me to do.
In the same way I might decide to do the opposite of what my stubbornness wants in an argument, or choosing to be more flexible when plans need to change, I can choose to give creative-me the time and space she deserves.
Making that choice isn’t easy, especially when I’m burned out or managing multiple responsibilities. But when I ask myself what I want most, the answer is always easy, I just have to choose to follow through.