Disclaimer - This blog is still in its early stages, and I haven't yet decided which way to take it, or what niche to potentially fill. I haven't posted on here in a while, as my previous format of advice/mental health/psychology just wasn't feeling as relevant to me as it was before. However, I've missed writing and I'm going to take that extra step and be more open. I feel like I can't write congruently and with meaning without it, so here goes. new year, new youMy New Year's resolution this year was to add more creativity into my life, in whatever form it takes. This resolution won't make much sense without context, so let me give you a bit of history. When I was growing up, I liked to do lots of creative things. I wrote stories, poems and song lyrics describing my teenage angst. I painted in the garden as a small child, and I learnt to play musical instruments. In senior school I discovered acting. All of these things, especially music, were incredibly important to me during my formative years. I also achieved academically, which meant some of the time my perfectionism and need for validation got in the way of being creative purely for the sake of it. I started taking my A Levels, and about 3 months in, I had a parents evening. I went along with my parents and listened to various teachers' feedback about my work so far. I must've been about 16. I got some negative feedback from my Music A Level teacher, and ended up dropping the course. I reacted to one person's opinion to a great deal of detriment to myself. I kept on with some singing and dabbling here and there, but never committed myself as I had before. I kept on with writing here and there, and acting. I have an undergraduate degree in Theatre from the University of Leeds, and a deferred offer to continued study for an MA in acting at drama school, which I declined after being told my place was not immediate, but be there for me in 2 years' time. Again, my ego and need for validation stopped me from pursuing something that mattered to me a great deal. Since graduating, I haven't continued to create with any frequency or devotion. The furiesIn Barbara Taylor's brilliant book "The Last Asylum", she describes her descent into mental illness as coinciding with her decision to not allow herself to create (in her instance, poetry). She uses mythology to demonstrate this; the furies are characterised as a vengeful force that wreak havoc with the creative mind if it is not allowed to express itself. They are a punishment for not releasing the creativity that lies within us, and can attack us in ways that are unexpected. That metaphor has stuck with me. During Winter 2015 I had my own struggle with mental illness. I have worked in caring roles for almost 10 years now, and after a litany of brushes with burnout, it finally took its toll. I kept working on my doctorate, but sought professional help, and at points turned to medication. I re-enlisted in therapy, after giving it a go in my early twenties. It became an outlet for me to explore how my mind worked and regain a sense of power in my life. Time and time again the topic of creativity came up in my sessions, and it took me over a year to really listen and take action. It was clear from therapy that I was feeling like I had a distinct lack of pleasure or fun in my life. My work was mentally draining, and involved giving to others. Unfortunately, I didn't feel that I needed to take anything back for myself. You see, my belief system was that I didn't deserve it. I therefore continually brushed aside any suggestions that getting back into writing or music or acting would make any difference to me. I used various excuses about the arts not being as "important" as my work in the charitable and public sector. I described stereotypical histrionic actors and counted myself as lucky to have got away from such frivolous devotions. My therapy involved working very hard on my self-esteem, confidence, congruence and self-efficacy. It's something I still work on. Once I was finally in a place where I had some belief that I deserved more happiness, the topic of the arts came up again. I resisted again, and it wasn't until seeing what fulfilment my parter was getting from re-engaging with painting, that I thought it would be worth giving it a go. I returned to creativity, but with some skepticism. baby stepsI started small. I asked my Mum what I did to express my creativity when I was very little, when grades and achieving weren't important to me. She told me that I painted on an easel in the back garden, and I went to a music group. So I bought a mini watercolour set, a sketch pad, and took some drum lessons from a friend of mine. I joined a samba drumming group. And, I started a blog. My little paintings occasionally went alongside my social media posts advertising the blog. I surprised myself. I took an experimental frame of mind to all of these moments, knowing that I didn't have to commit myself, or I could leave if I hated it. And I remembered much more than I thought. Once my confidence had built I decided to try something that required more commitment. I auditioned for a local amateur theatre company, and was successful in getting a part. I rehearsed three times a week with a small female cast. Doing this alongside my doctorate training was incredibly restorative for me. At rehearsal after a particularly difficult day at work, one of my fellow cast members described the rehearsal process as a "detox". And it was; I completely immersed myself in a different world for 2-3 hours 3 times a week. I emerged afterwards feeling rejuvenated and like my brain was making loads of new connections. I was basically high on life! The knock on effect was that life was easier to handle, and my world expanded a lot more. I decided to consider how I could be more creative in my working life, which is another question that I'm still trying to answer. Last week, I performed on a stage in a small theatre for a 5 night run. It was an absolute whirlwind, an emotional rollercoaster. After it was over I felt exhilerated, exhausted and alive. The thing that is most difficult about writing this post is the feeling I had being on stage after so much nourishing work. I am tearful thinking about it now, and feel incredibly lucky to have experienced that feeling at all. Here is a picture of the cast at the start of that crazy week: If I have learnt one thing from this journey, it is to respect and honour our creativity. It is our privilege as humans, and what wholeheartedly sets us apart. I try and see my creativity as something that is bigger than me, outside of me, but needs my attention, engagement and nurture.
On the days when I sit on my sofa and hide from the buzz and overwhelm of the outside world, I know that it's still there waiting. I've just got to try and be receptive to it, and let it in. To explore this topic further I recommend Elizabeth Gilbert's "Big Magic". It brings to life this idea in a manner that is a tad fantastical, but it is an incredibly healing book if you are seeking permission to create something. Don't wait as long as me, please don't. It took me just over 3 months to experience so much happiness, but over a decade to feel worthy and make the effort to try. If it has been a long time for you, let this be a reminder that it really is never too late. Creativity does not judge us at all, which is refreshing considering we are often judged in a myriad of different ways in day-to-day life. Not only do my insides feel more expansive, I have met some wonderful people that are full of vitality and love, and my local area also feels much richer. I am thoroughly humbled to be a part of it all. Bring on the next play :)
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AuthorMy name's Julia, send me an email at [email protected] Archives
April 2017
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