Happy New Year ☼
It’s day 1 of 2023, so naturally I am thinking about new beginnings and intentions, and how starting is sometimes the hardest part. Or rather, starting is sometimes the ONLY hard part. I’d even go on to say that 99% of the effort needed for creative practice is for just getting to the starting point. The rest just happens from there.
I’m not just talking about effort in starting a big lifelong practice or a new year’s resolution to spend more time being creative. I’m talking about the little every day moments. Simply shifting from email to painting. Which is not as simple as it sounds.
There’s a weird process that happens between point A: wanting to do something creative/fulfilling/nourishing, and point B: actually doing it. Sometimes that process feels like a level X mental obstacle course with flaming hoops, trick mirrors and moving walls.
The good news about mental obstacle courses is that they are entirely fabricated in the mind. As far as how exactly to unweave that, well, that’s personal for each individual, but here’s something I’ve noticed.
It is possible to bypass the mental obstacle course by just bee-lining head first for the thing you want to do and just making a first move. This can actually require a LOT of mental and emotional effort. A lot of protecting ourselves from distractions. Surrender. Trust. A bit of discipline, but in the loving way.
Once you make the first move, like following a signal, the rest of the process nearly unfolds automatically. This has probably hopefully happened to you at some point in your life, and it’s unfathomably magical. In fact, it probably happens to you all of the time but with different or more mundane things so it feels less magical than it really is. It’s happening to me right now. I started this letter by deciding to open up a blank document and writing my ideas loosely and here we go, the post is writing itself.
It’s like a snowball effect. You effort to pack the snowball and then after that it just rolls easily and accumulates snow and all of a sudden you’ve been making art for 3 hours in a timeless dance with your natural unfolding process of curiosity, divine playfulness, absorption, and connection. That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t pickup the first handful of snow, or put your gloves on, or stepped outside… or even thought about stepping outside…
I think of times in my ashtanga practice, especially during the most isolated parts of the pandemic, where it felt hard to get out of bed early or fathom the feeling of doing my practice. But I noticed day in and day out, once I just got my body to the top of my mat, the moment I took the first inhale, the practice more or less did itself after that and took whatever form it needed to on that day. The grandest effort was getting to the first breath. There was something about those experiences that created relief in my mind. All I needed to do get the body to the spot and take the first breath. I’ve also noticed after years that the starting has become automatic too, many first inhales later, as a new pattern has been created and sustained. I’m starting to notice this cumulative effect in my creative practice now.
Over time, this method of using pure willpower to get to the starting line and taking the first step will create a new pattern of knowing how to begin. Take the first inhale and watch in awe how the process unfolds.
How to start when starting is hard? Bee-line. In that moment, set everything else aside, narrow your attention on the thing you want to do, get the body to the spot, and simply make the first smallest move. It might feel awkward! Like you’re sort of forcing yourself even. Going against the grind of the mind. But that will soften with each new moment.
Making the first move could look like:
Opening the empty notebook.
Opening the empty sketchbook.
Opening the empty word doc.
Opening the empty canvas.
Opening the jar of paint.
Sharpening the pencil.
Cutting the paper to size.
Cleaning off an area on the table.
Getting our your supplies.
Placing yourself in a designated environment.
Setting the phone down.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Sounds so easy and simple, and yet, I think we’ve all experienced the mystery of how much hard it can actually be.
I’m wishing you a bright new year full of creativity and possibility and I look forward to writing more this year about creativity as my own practice deepens as well.
Keep practicing ♡
With love,
-Kristen