The energetic (and not so energetic) cycle of creativity

by Sean MacEntee

What drives you to create?

I think most of us artistic types find that our creativity is cyclical. Some days (or weeks), we feel "on" and nothing can stop us. At other times, we can only muster the bare minimum required. I think the first step to sustaining these bursts of creativity is to accept that we can't be on all the time. On top of struggling with self-doubt, I think a lot of us struggle with the low weeks when we're merely steeping. By acknowledging the cycle, we can adapt and manage the low points in more healthy ways.

Although my motivation hasn't been lagging this week, my energy certainly has. I'm not quite sure what the culprit is, but I suspect diet and sleep are two factors. Perhaps the stress of the move is finally releasing its hold on me and sucking the energy I have. Just thinking of practicing causes me to yawn profusely and feel about ten times more exhausted. By the time I feel awake enough to even pull my flute out, it's too late at night.

This is the type of cycle I can control. I can eat more cleanly, I can improve my pre-bed routine, I can begin taking supplements, I can sleep less (sleeping more is sometimes not the answer to energy loss). This is when I'm grateful for the mindfulness I've infused into my life through somatics. I can listen to my body and make appropriate changes. Instead of foundering and entering into a negative self-talk cycle, I can instead make mindful changes to see if any of them help my energy levels match my motivation and desire to create.

Accept and acknowledge, but don't surrender. Appreciate the cycle with mindful observation.

Looking inward to capture the joy in music making

The labyrinth at Ghost Ranch, a place for quiet reflection

I have taken up a meditation practice, and I had a delicious experience today. I use the quiet time as a chance to draw inward and be with God. If there's a particular thing that I'm struggling with such as anxiety, I'll form an intention to reflect on as I sit quietly. Just like my Super Efficient Practice Hour, this 20 minutes I devote to solitude leaves me better able to handle the day.

Most of my intentions lately have focused on qualities I feel are lacking when I react to my current situation with fear, anxiety and worry. I have a choice about how to deal with the stress, and I have chosen to deal with it as positively as possible. In my very human moments when I succumb to the negative emotions, I return to how I felt during my meditation and I begin breathing more deeply and the negativity releases its grip on me.

My intention today was "presence." The current situation is teaching my husband and me how to live in the moment. I know that I can only do one thing at a time. Instead of becoming overwhelmed with my endless to do list, I would rather stay focused on the present and give myself manageable tasks that feel like progress is being made.

As I sat, I suddenly realized that this was my time and I should relish it. This realization washed over me and drew me deeper into myself in a way I hadn't experienced before. I don't think I've ever thought about the time I've taken for myself in quite that way. I became involved in the present - I wasn't just trying to be present.

When practicing becomes a chore, we can return to a place and motivate ourselves by giving ourselves a gift of time. That gift allows us to not only refine and improve our technical skill on the instrument, but it makes us better people. The more present we are in our performance, the greater our awareness and it enhances our joy. We enter into a real time conversation with the audience that can't exist if we're worrying about what we just played or the difficult part ahead. This is the essence of inclusive awareness.

I'm starting to realize that this difficult situation I'm in has helped me appreciate this time as an opportunity to begin injecting more humanity into my music. I subscribe to Astrid Baumgardner's newsletter, and she included a fantastic article about ways to manage challenges in her April issue. As I searched for an old email this morning in my inbox, the newsletter appeared in my search results. It was perfectly timed. If you're dealing with a difficult time, personally or professionally, I encourage you to read it and use the action steps to make a plan. Her action steps encourage presence by focusing on the immediate, which helps you to clearly articulate the next step.

The lesson here is no matter external circumstances, free the music within by drawing inward and finding the joy that exists in each moment of your life. What's your story?

Perspective: Abundance or Scarcity?

In my last post, I mentioned that I've been reading Rosamund and Ben Zander's book, The Art of Possibility. One of the first things discussed is the lens that people choose to view the world through.

Viewing life through a lens of scarcity means that nothing is ever good enough. There isn't enough work, too many musicians, your background isn't good enough, etc. This limits the viewer in an incredibly narrow way.

Open yourself up to abundance and (Zander is absolutely right on this) possibility begins to pour in.

I feel like I can be the poster child for scarcity since my life story began through what should be a lens of scarcity. I was born and raised in Southwest VA, culturally rich but not in classical music. Although I had a caring band director for the first three years as a flute student, I didn't necessarily have the opportunities that kids have living in urbanized areas...or did I?

Through this lens of scarcity, I began looking for opportunities. I began traveling 50 minutes one way every week to begin private lessons. I auditioned for the Kingsport Youth Orchestra, didn't get in, but kept trying anyway until I did. I entered local competitions. I went to music camps in the summer. I dreamed about Curtis, Julliard and Eastman. I began exploring the online message boards to learn as much as I could about playing the flute.

Regardless of my background, even though I had a whole realm of scarcity grounded in reality to contend with, I never stopped dreaming or trying.

When you view things through the lens of scarcity, your past hangs over you like a dark cloud. You never can seem to move past all the things that you blame for your lack of success. Self-doubt builds and your professional life continues to suffer.

If I chose to live my life in the realm of scarcity, I would not be doing the things I'm doing today. I wouldn't have the courage or confidence to step out. I only have a Bachelor's degree and it's not even from a major music school! What am I thinking?!

I could give you 50 more reasons why I shouldn't be doing what I'm doing if I operated this way.

The quote, "Life opens up with you do" could never be more true. Making a living in music gives you the freedom to take risks, explore life and learn things that a desk job will never teach you. We can return to our instrument every day and come away with a new awareness even if it is only just one tiny thing. That beats the daily routine where you're just counting your working hours down until you can go home.

Articulating the differences of the scarcity vs. abundance perspectives are key to letting go of those elements that hold you back. Life isn't fair, but we can make it more fair when we choose to live an abundant life full of possibility.

If there was an ever more important lesson I could teach to my 16 year old self, it would be this.

Recapturing the joy in music making

I don't have children of my own but I get to work with children closely as a private flute teacher. I've also taught larger groups of children from ages 5-12.

I love children's natural curiosity and since I'm still a big curious kid myself always asking questions, it bothers me that children nowadays have a tendency to shy away from asking questions. Society in general has shifted from valuing critical thinking to valuing conformity and accepting the filtered information that is fed to us.

My goal as a private teacher is to develop a child's interest in music and help them towards musical independence so that they can nurture and enjoy listening and playing music as a lifelong activity. I don't tell my students everything. I ask them pointed questions until they figure out the answer on their own. It may take longer this way, but I want them to think for themselves. When they arrive at the answer, it's a memorable occasion and the information will more likely stick. They can find joy in learning a new piece of information or a new way to approach and practice a piece. I feel this is my contribution to the world in general if I can encourage my students to think and ask questions.

As adults, we may have trouble retaining the joy in music. Competition, lack of motivation, life in general and other factors slowly degrade our passion from joyous to toiling. How can we prevent this?

I've been reading Rosamund and Benjamin Zander's book "The Art of Possibility: Transforming Personal and Professional Life." Every time I read a chapter, I either find myself excited and my motivation returning or I'm moved to tears by the pure emotional clarity. Adults make things complicated. This book encourages us to remove the blinders of judgment and assumption and just be.

I think the most effective thing we can do to recapture joy in our music making is to find presence in our day to day lives. That presence will transfer to our performances, and we will be happier and more fulfilled. Presence helps us rise above the detail of a piece and helps us find context or the longer line in life. I really didn't understand this concept until I began practicing yoga. Rather than trying to run away from the discomfort of a more challenging yoga pose, I chose to stay with it. Presence is a discipline that can reap many rewards.

Life in general stinks, but we have the possibility to change that today and every day forward. As a musician, I'm incredibly lucky to be able to come to my instrument daily and remind myself of all the good things about life. When you find yourself drifting today, notice what you smell or what you hear. Bring yourself back to the present moment and be grateful. This is the essence of joy.

Ghost Ranch

I spent a week in August on Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM. Aside from where I grew up in Southwest Virginia, it felt like the most secluded place I had ventured.

It was amazing.

Enveloped in nature and music, I performed for Keith Underwood, had amazing conversations with like minded people (now friends), hiked and ran and ate some great food. The week began with culture shock (4 years stuck on the east coast will do that to you) and by the end of the week, I felt at home and energized.

I had kept hearing about the effects of Ghost Ranch on its visitors, but it sounded a little mumbo jumbo to be honest. I'm a transcendant type but those experiences still sounded too spiritual.

But I understand now. I'm on the path to making some great changes in my playing because of Keith and spending a week mostly disconnected from the daily grind and technology helped release some emotional blocks. My week at Ghost Ranch combined everything I value - music, fitness, transcendence. Instead of having to fight to balance those values as I do in my daily life, they all combined effortlessly there.

On my way back to Albuquerque to fly home, my friend Allie and I stopped in Santa Fe. I was in search of turquoise, but instead I found a great bracelet. The artist who made it said the bird symbolizes independence and free spirit. I wear it as a reminder of my independence as a person and the type of free spirit I want to cultivate in my performances as a musician and artist.



It also serves as a reminder of that week. It was such a transforming experience that I have plans to go back next year if my schedule allows.