A Guide to Forced Creativity
by Abby Strangward | shot by Nadz Banaag (from issue one)
Everybody feels uninspired sometimes. A bit numb, a bit empty, a bit listless. Emotions fluctuate, life comes to a standstill, and you feel stuck. It's normal. It's natural. You've hit a block. You're in a funk. It seems like a good idea to down a couple dozen chocolate bars, binge watch your favourite show and make a nest of sweatshirts in your bed.
But sometimes the deadline’s staring you right in the face and your creativity needs to get its shit together, fast. When I need to re-inspire myself, I like to step back and reground myself. Clear my mind, body and soul, and open myself back up to the world. Here’s a few things you can do to get in touch with your creative side, if it’s feeling out of reach.
Sit outside. Make a time to sit in the grass with no reason and no place to be. Close your eyes. Feel the sun or the rain on your skin, and know it has travelled far to reach you. Feel the wind on your face, in your hair, and know it's the same wind that stirs the leaves in the trees and the clouds in the sky. You are equal with the earth, no less, no more, with as much right to be here as the smallest plant, and the largest animal.
Have lunch at your favourite coffee shop. Pick the table near the window. Watch the passers-by. Bring a journal. Write down everything you're thinking. If you're not thinking of anything, write down what you see.
Sleep naked. Take off everything and crawl between the sheets. Let your skin breathe. Feel how free you are. This is 10x better if you and your sheets are freshly cleaned, too.
Stretch. Stand up for a few minutes. Try to touch your fingers to your toes. Lace your fingers and reach to the sky. Twist to the side as far as you can, and then the other side. Breathe deeply and evenly.
Share. Give away everything you have - ideas, emotions, thoughts and art. Give freely and give lovingly. The more you share, the more you can soak in. Every action, every thought, ripples out into the universe - the more you give away, the more you will be filled up. Sometimes, you can become stagnant, simply because you are holding too tight to what you possess.
Bake something. Cookies. Banana bread. Sponge cake. Concentrate fully on the task. Don't be afraid to spill the flour and drop the dirty spoons. Lick the bowls afterwards. Share the finished product with your mum, or roommates, or co-workers - or eat it all yourself. Every last bit. The calories don't count if you made it yourself, right?
Make a change. Cut your hair. Dye your hair. Move your bed to the other side of the room - no, move your bed into the lounge room. Shorten that t-shirt. Throw out all the food at the back of your fridge - you were never going to eat it. Buy a new painting and hang it on the wall. Paint something new and hang it on the wall. Pierce your ear. Paint your nails. Make a noticeable difference in yourself, in your environment. Feel fresh, new, rejuvenated.
Dance. Dance everywhere. Dance constantly. In your underwear, in front of your bathroom mirror, making breakfast, grocery shopping, while upside down, on trampolines, on trains, at the beach, in the street. Dance to your favourite music. Dance to no music at all. Dance with strangers, with your closest friends, by yourself. Dance your f*cking heart out. (It's good exercise, too!)
Go out alone. You don't have to have company to see new places, to do new things. Catch a bus or a train or a tram. Pick a number, and wait that many stations or stops before you get off. Explore. Follow the thrum of the crowd, or dissappear down quiet back streets. Find new coffee shops and second hand stores. Do things you wouldn't usually do. Go into that sex shop. Try that sandwich with that weird ingredient. Talk to the person reading your favourite book, or walking their dog, or sitting by themselves like you. Open yourself to new things. You're alone - don't cater for anyone but yourself.
Breathe. Breathe consciously. Breathe deeply. Breathe through your nose. Be aware of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Think of the air filtering through your nose, reaching your lungs, providing oxygen to your blood. Inhale. Exhale. What a miracle you are, pounding blood and beating heart. Inhale. Exhale.
Wash everything. Your sheets. Your clothes. You. Throw everything into your washing machine and pour in too much fabric softener. Wash yourself. Let the hot water soak into your hair, spill over your shoulders, cling to your fingers, slide down your face. Douse your hair in shampoo. Use too much conditioner. Shave - or don't. Whatever makes you feel best. Dry yourself with your favourite towel. Dress yourself in the cleanest clothes you can find. Everything feels better clean and fresh and new.
See a movie by yourself. Buy terribly over-priced popcorn, but buy your favourite chocolate from the supermarket and bring it with you.
Drive aimlessly. Blast your favourite music with every window rolled down. Sing as loud as you can until your throat's hoarse. Drive down streets as familiar as your home and streets you've never seen before. Let the wind fill your car and your music fill the air around you. Feel it begin to heal you.
View art, in some form. Visit a gallery. Scroll through your favourite blog. Pick up a book of poetry. Watch your favourite cooking show. Flip through a magazine. Soak in new information, inspiration, ideas. Make time to look at the things you love.
Write a letter to someone - you don't even have to send it. Maybe to a grandparent you never said goodbye to. A mother you should appreciate more. An aunt you haven't seen in a long time. A cousin you lost touch with. Handwrite the entire thing. If you do decide to send it, enclose anything you can think of - photos, a tea bag, a sample of fancy shampoo. (For more ideas, check out my mini-guide to sending letters). Letters are a tangible form of love - and sharing love makes you feel more whole, at peace, and open to the world.
Delete social media apps. Try it for a week. Instagram, twitter, tumblr, facebook, pinterest, youtube - you name it. Delete them all from your phone. Remove yourself from the bombardment of other people's lives. Stop comparing yourself to her snapchat story, his instagram feed, these inaccurate portrayals of lives. Discover how much more time you have, how less drained you feel without these apps at your fingertips. Re-download them after the week, but see if you're more conscious about your use of them.
Cry. Watch something that makes you cry. Read something that makes you cry. Or just let it out, if you've been holding back. Surround yourself with chocolate and blankets and tissues and cry your heart out. It's therapeutic. It's a form of release. Follow with some form of comfort - a nap, some food, tv, journaling or writing - and conscious breathing.
Wake up early. Before the rest of the world, when everything's soft and grey and sleepy. Go for a walk or a run or a bike ride, and end up somewhere you feel grounded and at-home. For me, it's the ocean. Maybe for you it's a park, or a cafe that opens early, or a small creek. Watch the sunrise. Watch the world wake up. Try and name the colour of the sky. The whole day is ahead of you, and every possibility in the world is possible right now.
Incorporating these ideas into your daily life is also a fantastic idea! Choose whichever appeal to you most; the more time you spend on things that nourish your mind, body and soul, the happier and more content you'll be.
