~ Jump to the Rules for the Road ~

I first picked up ‘The Artist’s Way: A spiritual path to creativity’ by Julia Cameron when I was 21 (13 years ago) out of a desire to heal my relationship to creativity. First published in 1992, it has since gone on to sell over 5 million copies worldwide (the 30th edition of the book was released in 2016).

I worked through all of the exercises, went on my weekly artist date (most of the time), and did my morning pages. I recorded my observations and shared what I was finding on the blog I kept back then. My favourite of all those posts was this one:  How to Write Your Artist’s Way “Letter to the Editor”.

When I consider what happened next in my life, it seems that in retrospect the program worked.

Although the results were not immediate. It was more like the program lit a flame within me, and that this flame attracted experiences that would further prompt me to rest within the discomfort of wanting to be creative, and instead of running away from that discomfort, write. And I did write. 

I went on to write, produce, and feature in a short film called Left Opened, that explored the experience of anxiety using poetry, improvised, music, and dance. This film featured in film festivals internationally. Later, I warmed up a conference stage for Danielle LaPorte with spoken word poetry. And featured on the Vancouver Poetry Slam stage (the longest-running poetry slam in Canada) with a 20 minute set of spoken word poetry. I was one of 10 featured poets on the City of Vancouver’s ‘Poetry Phone’ installation. I’ve also performed poetry with the musical support of the Allegra Chamber Orchestra for their Women’s Day event. 

When I first arrived in Vancouver, I remember feeling overwhelmed by where to start. I remember feeling small and insignificant in relation to my dreams, and to the city. I remember the longing I felt to write, and to have what I wrote be meaningful to myself and others.

When I consider what I’ve accomplished since then, I can’t help but smile. I feel proud of myself.

But I’ve also done a lot of ‘not writing’.

I’ve also done a lot of avoiding the creative projects I wanted to begin; filling the time I could have spent being creative with reflection, with the inner work I thought I needed to do first. 

The biggest hurdle I’ve overcome over the last several years is the hurdle of believing that before I could be creative, I had to first understand my relationship to creativity, while simultaneously transforming myself into somebody who was worthy of being creative. 

Which is a tricky loop to get out of. 

You can reflect for a long time, and you can try to make yourself feel worthy for a long time, but if a quiet, barely spoken but deeply felt belief in your inadequacy lies underneath all of your inner work and reflection — then you are walking in a circle. At least, this was my experience.

For it is difficult to respond to the question of “am I enough?”, with “yes, I am enough”, and have your answer stay on its feet, walk away from the confrontation with poise and dignity.  The ‘am I enough?’ question is much more likely to whip your response off its feet. Swallow it up so you forget you ever said it. Or worse, make your response feel meagre and naive — a lie you were trying to get away with. 

Better to retire the ‘am I enough’ question and call it irrelevant. Find a better question to live.

Better to just start writing and making the things you most want to create, and let the question of your worthiness, or readiness, rest. Simply begin. 

Your Inner Dream

In ‘The Artist’s Way’, Julia Cameron writes “Each of us has an inner dream that we can unfold if we will just have the courage to admit what it is.” And then later (in week 8) offers this exercise:

“Name your dream. That’s right. Write it down. In a perfect world, I would secretly love to be a _____.” 

I love the directness of this question — how it encourages you to simply reveal, without hiding, your desire to be a writer, artist, musician (etc).

But if I may be so bold as to rewrite Cameron’s question, then I would change it to this wording:

I would love to create ____. 

Take out all of the extra words. Rather than a ‘perfect world’, this world. This moment. Rather than highlighting a career, choose a specific project or medium you’d like to focus on.

What would you like to create now? Starting today. 

And then, begin.

In my experience, the best way to begin is by actually carving out dedicated space for your creativity. A container of time you can  create within as you both move through discomfort and get whisked away by moments of flow and inspiration. Importantly, during this container you’re no longer only introspectively writing about (in Cameron’s words) your “buried blocks to your creativity”. Instead, you’re actively meeting them, feeling their discomfort, and moving through them as you create work that is meaningful to you. 

Julia Cameron’s ‘Rules for the Road’ 
for making space for creativity

Julia Cameron offers 10 rules for the road in ‘The Artist’s Way’. which can support you in your writing/creativity practice (I call it a ‘practice’, because the word  invites an experience of active learning, rather than propelling you into a space where you feel you need to understand exactly how to do this right away). 

 Several of these rules for the road make mention of a ‘Great Creator’, which as an atheist does not resonate for me. What does resonate with me is developing a relationship to my breath (which is an alternative translation of ‘spirit’), while I write. I’ve included this version of Cameron’s ‘rule for the road’ below.

*The numbers listed below coincide with the number beside the rule as it was listed in ‘The Artist’s Way’.

1. Show up at the page. Use the page to rest, to dream, to try.

Each practice will be different. Some days you will have slept poorly, and a be a little tired. Other days, you’ll be filled with energy and the words will be absolutely spilling out of you.

When you show up at the blank page, you can practice compassion with yourself while also practicing commitment. Do what you can. Try not to judge yourself if ‘what you can’ is less than what you’d have liked it to have been. 

3. Set small and gentle goals and meet them 

These ‘small and gentle goals’ could be to simply show up at the page once a week, or more. If you set a more concrete writing goal for yourself, practice humility when making this goal.

A note on humility. The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as “a modest or low view of one’s importance”. But Yoga Digest defines humility as “knowing your own limitations and becoming adept at listening “to the messages your body sends you” about how far you should hold a pose (or how long you can write before your focus runs out) and learning to respect that limitation.” (source)

When my focus runs out and I persist in pushing forward, rather than taking a break, my body tenses and I start holding my breath. I leave these practices feeling burnt out and exhausted. 

Why not practice being gentle with ourselves as we show up at the page —  resting when needed. This kindness towards yourself and your body may allow for a more sustainable creative practice — rather than one that begins with a burst of high energy and enthusiasm, and then quickly peters out. 

7. Choose companions who encourages me to do the work, not just talk about the work or why I  am not doing the work.

If you decide to share the fruits of your creativity with a friend, choose someone who you know will build you up versus break you down. Be honest with yourself. Sometimes (and I say this from experience) we go to the wrong people repeatedly, because we don’t think we’re worthy of that positive feedback  — unconsciously we’re looking to be broken down. 

On the reverse side: if someone chooses to share their creative work with you, return the gift: nourish their work with your own belief in them.

I sometimes wonder if the skepticism that can arise in response to someone else’s dream, could easily be turned around on ourselves and the way we treat and see our own dreams/desires. Perhaps if we can learn to believe in others, we can also learn to believe in ourselves. 

And then one more of my own:

0) include your breath

Your body and your breath can be there in your writing practice with you. Within the movement of my own breath, I sense an inner wisdom. When I work with that movement, rather than against it (like I do when I hold my breath and push towards my goals) I find a sense of internal support. 

Cameron’s 6^th ‘Rule for the Road’ is to “be alert, always, for the presence of the Great Creator leading and helping my artist.” For this, I replace ‘Great Creator’ with the ‘physical sensation of my movement of my breath as I let it come and go on its own’. From that physical sensation a feeling of being led and helped arises within me. 

In conclusion

Don’t wait to ‘be enough’. If you’re yearning to begin a creative practice, then begin making space for it. Set a container for yourself using some of these Rules for the Road. 

If you’d like support, check out my Develop a Writing Ritual 10-week program. I’ve designed this series to be a nourishing space to take those first steps towards prioritizing your creativity.