I thought my urge to set aside creative time was completely related to the lack of writing I have produced over the last few years. Yet the more I try to commit to my plan for creativity in 2009, the more I struggle to make it work just the way I wanted and produce the writing I expected. My attempts to write fiction and poetry have been poor, and not just because I’m still working on a creative routine. It feels as though creative writing is actually boring me a little.

I know that I’m making excuses to some extent. Saying something is boring is a convenient way to practice avoidance… I know that if I churned out more crappy poetry, I would (or I trust I would?) eventually start digging up meaningful words again. I have yet to “walk off” the creative stinger I’ve been hit with over the past three or four years.

But coupled with these natural pains of starting again is an urge I did not expect at the beginning of this process. A lot of my creative energy seems to be bubbling up around potential business ideas. I spend more time thinking about business ideas than I do writing, and I find that thinking more interesting than I do the creative writing. I’ve also been taking on additional freelance work, pulling back to only a couple days a week working at the family business.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s time to be more intentional about this, create a business plan, and form a company. In addition to freelance consulting, I’d like to dabble in developing some of the web and knowledge sharing ideas I’ve had. It’s been established that an economy like this is good for entrepreneurial risk-taking… although I don’t view these potential directions as risks. I view them as natural extensions of opportunities I already have, a way to capitalize on relationships and strengths I’m already developing. If anything, I wonder what would happen if I didn’t get serious and formalize my work as a business now. Would I miss opportunities? Would I lose the chance to leverage connections or knowledge that could help me be more successful?

These are broad hypothetical questions, but I find myself asking them a lot. I’ve asked them ever since I was 14. I feel so fortunate to have had early, ample exposure to entrepreneurs. These included my dad, who started his business when I was 14. Since that time, I’ve watched him grow it carefully to the humble, strong company it is now. In some ways, the company was wildly ahead of its time. In other ways, we are a few years too late on some innovations, like our emerging green product line. My dad started using green cleaners for pest management in a local school district in the 1990s. Instead of innovating a company and a product line at that time (he had three little kids and was obviously more risk averse), he shared the idea with others. Now it feels like we are playing a bit of catch-up in that regard.

Given these experiences, and knowing that I am already semi-invested in a consulting career, I feel a strong pull to let myself dive in more intentionally. And that can be creative in its own right, I think. Maybe it’s actually the best way for me to express and merge my creative and analytical sides? I’m just not completely sure what it looks like yet. I’ve been browsing a lot of websites, comparing my skills to those of other communications consultants, thinking about a target audience of potential clients (presumably non-profits, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions), and drafting summaries of my strengths and capabilities.

I’d be interested to hear from others who have gone through a similar process, or those who care to speculate on what they might do in the same situation! If you are a full-time business owner now and were once a casual freelancer, how did you make that leap? What were the indicators that told you it was time to get more serious?

I believe in soul mates the way Anne of Green Gables swoons over “kindred spirits”. There are some people you meet who seem to be singing to you when the rest of the room is humming in a mess of sporadic conversations.

Sometimes I wonder if the only reason I volunteer, blog, or otherwise engage in community is because I’m a lush for these kinds of connections. Above the din of the work itself, I’ve discovered a few relationships that leave me truly energized, rile my curiosity, and make me believe I’m just one part of a bigger thing, trying to reconnect myself to the whole through other people.

There are primary soul mates, like my husband Carl, who knows me more holistically than anyone ever will. And then there are secondary or supporting soul mates, with whom I connect individually in a particular area of my life, and as a whole, I would say we’re universally connected by a shared understanding of or appreciation for how the world works.

This notion of soul mates always seems to grow in importance to me as I focus on creativity. I think this is partially because I need human connection to tackle creativity. I’ve learned that I can’t do it alone. When I create in isolation, I start to replace my creative outlets with more practical ones. Before I even realize I’ve made this decision (because it’s not a decision – it just happens), my creative side is quiet again.

I guess I’m learning that relationships are an important part of my creative process. Tania, one of my closest friends from college, is teaching me this. I e-mail her one afternoon wondering what’s wrong with me, and she replies telling me exactly what it is. She lives on the other side of the state, and she’s given up on calling me because I hate the telephone and never call anyone back. Yet a couple times a week, through Twitter or our blogs or e-mail, we have these moments where I feel like we must still brush our teeth together in the community bathroom on the third floor of Phillips Hall.

I didn’t know it when we sat next to each other through Diane Wakoski’s grueling critiques of our poetry, but Tania is one of my creative soul mates.

I’m positive you can’t “find” soul mates. You can only put yourself in situations where you are accessible to these connections. This is why soul mates are not the same thing as community, and vice versa. There are many online communities where the whole point is to connect with others who have a shared concern or passion. But connection is not the only variable in being creative, supportive soul mates.

Similarly, inspiration is not the only variable. Inspiration comes from your muse, if you believe in that sort of thing. I believe real people can be muses too – there was a woman in one of my poetry classes in college who had a beautiful name, who read with the most humble, plant-me-in-the-ground-and-I’d-grow-sunflowers voice, whose life experience seemed so big and wise for her being so young. But we rarely talked. She was not a creative soul mate, although I found her incredibly inspiring.

A creative soul mate is a hybrid of these qualities, but with a level of intuition added to the mix. You connect, you inspire each other, but soul mates have an innate ability to anticipate one another. This is what makes the relationship impossible to predict or plan. It is your intuition about what the other person believes, and your sense that it aligns with your own beliefs, that makes you sigh “oh, we’re kindred spirits” like Anne of Green Gables.

Now that I’ve noodled through this and started to take inventory of the other kinds of soul mates in my life, my inevitable next question is: what can I do with them? Maybe they are not a relationship to be managed – maybe I shouldn’t levy that kind of expectation, just like I can’t “find” a soul mate. But I do wonder what the potential creative results are if I am more intentional about building relationships with the creative soul mates I do have?

I am struggling with my resolutions. Part of me feels the slow beginnings of a good routine, but part of me chides, “You have next to nothing show for almost a month of trying to be more creative. You suck, and I knew you would suck.” (Oh, the wisdom of self-fulfilling prophecies.)

I have written. I’m about half-way to my target of 10,000 words for the month, and if this exercise in creativity is anything like college, I’ll probably always be writing at least 5,000 words the night before the new month. I make deadlines just so I can enjoy the thrill of pushing myself up against them.

But I can’t help but feel like I should have built in some training wheels for these resolutions. And because it’s too late to change the rules, I have to seek other supports. This weekend I resorted to watching Little Women, which is the quintessential Emily cry for help when I want to write but am too scared, distracted, or defeated to start.

Little Women came out when I was starting to realize that writing, an activity I loved, could actually be an identity. Watching it again this weekend, I realized Little Women fed all the emerging parts of my identity when I first saw it… beyond the craft of writing, it appealed to my curiosity about humanity and equality, my sense of family, and my pursuit of meaning in such a big world. (Little Women came out in 1994. I was a very serious 10 year old.)

Knowing more of who I am now, and knowing why writing still matters to me, I was struck by a thread of the story my inexperienced 10-year-old self didn’t totally appreciate. Early on, Jo claims the most important part of writing is writing what you don’t know.

Admittedly, in my urge to latch on to any kind of direction right now with my writing, I thought, “Aha! I will write something I know nothing about. It would be easy to write 10,000 words every month if I did that.”

I forgot a major part of the story is Jo discovering that her own story, of her sisters and her life, is the most powerful thing she brings to her writing. After all, the movie culminates with her writing Little Women and getting it published. Yeah, duh. This quickly put my epiphany about writing what I don’t know back in perspective.

So now I’ve been thinking about what it is I do know. I get myself tangled up in the expectation that my writing must dutifully package and present some kind of nugget. I too often end up writing as a service to progress. When I think about writing what I know, I’m actually asking, What do I have that I can package? As if I am a grocery store, and if I just wheeled a cart around, I could fill it with the contents of my mind and apply them with the kind of rigor that produces a polished three-course meal.

Yet writing is not so precise an exercise, at least not for me. Writing what you know shouldn’t equate to identifying and exploiting life experience. In all likelihood, part of my fear of getting started is actually the messiness. I’m looking at a pile of experiences and questions – good and bad – and wondering how the hell I’m going to transform it into something I can stomach.

So I decided I am going to worry a little less about writing what I know and what I can package. Instead, I want to write to understand, rather than writing to be understood.

I think this is why Jo March’s/Louisa May Alcott’s experiences became so powerful. It was not simply that she had lived them, but she had reached a point in her life where she needed to understand them. She could lend herself to them more as a student and less as a curator of them.

This thinking has led me to three conclusions:

• I should put aside the draft of the children’s story I was working on – it’s a convenient way for me to hide from the things I still need to understand, and the experiences I need to be writing.
• I need to recommit myself to writing poetry, because that is the one kind of writing that has always helped me tap into my experiences.
• I need to get over the fact that one of my college professors essentially told me I’m the world’s worst essayist and just start writing some personal essays… I never exactly thought she was God’s gift to writing anyway, so it’s silly to let her hold me back.

I have little idea where I’m going to start, but I think this is still helpful process?

Learning and action go hand in hand for me, so as I’ve started to build more creative activity in to the new year, I’ve sought lots of connections and resources for ongoing learning about creative process, inspiration, etc. These are four of my favorite finds from this week:

Some thoughts on writing, by Elizabeth Gilbert. Because I’m reading Eat, Pray, Love and because I really like Gilbert’s style, I was hoping she’d have a blog I could become similarly infatuated with. Not so, but I did find this page with her ideas on writing process, including her take on how to learn as a writer. What she offers, especially her perspective on workshops and formal training, is pretty refreshing.

Cultivating a Writing Habit, by Chris Brogan. This blog is a must if you’re someone who cares about social media and online communications, but it was great to read this post on writing process outside the scope of a particular content area. It goes without saying that I’m in agreement on the notion of reading first, writing second, as Chris recommends. I also like the suggestion that writing is something bigger than action that happens on a page, with a specific intention to Write Something. It happens when we’re brainstorming, talking, jotting notes, sending off a quick email.

Passion vs. Practicality, by Susan at twenty(or)something. Good thoughts and questions on the struggle to balance personal passion with paying the bills, from another twenty-something who seems to be where I am in terms of craving a more creative life (and who also keeps looking back at college, thinking — seriously, was that the best incubator I was going to get for this work?).

Writers, abandon your muses, by Iain of Write for Your Life. Given my attempt at a no-nonsense plan for writing, this post’s no-nonsense approach to the muse cliche is appealing. Anything that assists in excuse-making, as a muse sometimes does, really has no place in a plan for building a creative life. Because even when you’re “on”, the muse isn’t any more or less a tool for writing well (or writing at all, for that matter).

With all the reading I’ve done this week, I continue to see some threads: people want to introduce more creativity in their lives, but not just creativity for creativity’s sake. Creativity is both a desired goal and an intentional process, one that has to be married with other parts of life — like business and paying the bills — for it to be meaningful and sustainable.

It makes me wonder what kind of resources or communities could emerge this year to help people find the intersection of creavity, practicality, and process. I hope that blogs like Write for Your Life fill this role, but wonder if there are tools that might also crop up to support this kind of work?

This is the last of three parts about my resolution to develop a creative life in 2009. I’ve shared my reasons for doing this and the realities at play, as well as the requirements and rules. Now it’s time to talk about the goodies — those that will support me during this process and those that await me if I am successful. 

Resources

Much like a business plan, this creativity plan needs resources attached to it. The most critical resource will be my own dedication to the plan, but there are other elements that I feel are important to articulate:

• Time: I estimate that at least 10 to 15 hours will be needed to successfully and happily work this plan. I currently have Fridays off, which is very helpful, but I’ll need to structure my time throughout the week so I don’t simply arrive at Friday and feel uninspired to plow through a day’s worth of creating.
• Money: I think the plan requirements, including events and supplies, will need a budget of about $500 over the course of the year. That’s assuming that every event I attend costs at least $25, but I’m sure I’ll be able to do better than that. I’m not about making this an elite experience, but I do realize that if I want to pursue so many diverse events and opportunities, money will be a factor. (Virginia Woolf got this so right.)
• Support: I am sharing this plan for input, ideas and awareness. I hope my blog will be an informal support, and I will share the plan with my husband Carl, as he’s been very supportive of me getting back in to writing, and I know he’ll enjoy the opportunity to help me be accountable.

Rewards

When I discussed this plan with my friend Tania, she was pretty adamant that a reward system was needed. She probably knows my creative tendencies and barriers better than anyone else, as we spent a lot of time together in poetry workshops and literature classes at Michigan State. So as much as I wanted to dismiss a rewards system (I’m so altruistic like that), I trusted her judgment and created one:

• By the end of the first quarter, if I have met my monthly reading and writing requirements, I will buy a subscription to Poets & Writers. 
• By the end of the second quarter, if I have met my monthly reading and writing requirements, I will buy a new set of nice pens (a budget of $25). 
• By the end of the third quarter, if I have met my monthly reading and writing requirements, I will spend $25 in new music on iTunes.
• By the end of the year, if I have met all my requirements, I will get a new laptop. Yeah. Blammo. Had to run that one by the hubby so I don’t shock our year-end finances. But honestly, if there is anything that I’d really love and that would be a good tool in my ongoing creative pursuits, it’s a new computer. That’s a pretty big reward, but it’s the one thing I can think of that has practical relevance and the thrill of a new toy.

As always, I appreciate your comments and ideas, either here on the blog or on Twitter! I’m starting to dive in to my plan and will continue posting to the blog as a way of keeping myself on task.

Yesterday I shared the first of three parts of my plan for developing a creative life in 2009, basically the initial set-up for why I am approaching the new year in this way… the cozy part where I get honest with myself and think broadly about what this plan means.

But again, I can’t fight my analytical side, so my plan had to have some hard details — a set of requirements that I could quantify and measure, as well as a set of rules to guide me from the start.

Requirements

I would love my goals to simply be to read and write more, but I know I’ll need a lot of structure if I want to do this right and hold myself accountable. Ambiguity creates room for excuses, so I’m calling these “requirements” intentionally… “goals” is surprisingly lofty terminology, when I think about it. So, the requirements for my creative life in 2009 are as follows:

• I will read one book each month. Not 12 books total at any time during the year – at least one each month so I am consistently immersed in someone else’s writing.
• I will write at least 10,000 words each month, of any combination of journaling, blogging, poetry, fiction, etc.
• I will post to my blog on average* at least three times per week.
• I will attend four writing-related events, of any size and style, at any location.
• I will buy a new Moleskine and fill it with doodles and ideas during the year.
• I will pay at least four visits to cultural attractions, such as the art museum.
• I will sing and/or surround myself with music everywhere it is “appropriate” – in the car, at home, at work. (And in the grocery store if Carl can handle that.)
• I will add at least 200 songs to my iPhone. This is arbitrary and probably exceeded by 99% of iPod users on their first sync, but I need a number, so there.
• I will attend four musical events. Concerts are acceptable, but festivals with multiple bands/shows may only count as one event.

So, by the end of 2009, I will have achieved the following:

• 12 books read.
• 120,000 words written.
• 156 blog posts shared.
• 1 Moleskine decked out in doodles.
• 12 creative events attended.
• Many hours of music enjoyed.

Of course, the hope is that by seeking structure in a few creative areas, I will become more open to other creative endeavors. Perhaps by the end of 2009 I’ll be attempting painting, sewing, or a musical instrument. No promises or requirements for that, but it would be a great side effect and indicator of success.

Rules

These are somewhat overarching, and I could call some of them rights as much as I can rules. I believe one of the greatest creative barriers is that of personal permission… I have failed to prioritize creativity in my life, because I haven’t given myself permission to let it matter to me like it once did. With the right rules in place, I will have no choice but to refuse distractions that may have derailed my creativity before:

• This is not about publishing, it’s about creating. There was a time when I had bylines in newspapers. This is not that time, and that is not the goal.
• I may not accept ANY new volunteer work. NONE. I currently serve in four volunteer roles, and it is already more than I can handle. I love volunteering, but it’s the top competitor for my free time, and consequently, my creative time.
• Every week, I must schedule my creative time to the best of my ability and honor that time as if it is a job with a very intolerant boss.
• I may not buy any new books until I have met my quota for the year. I own many books that I have never read, so it’s time I give them some attention. Books received unexpectedly as a gift are allowed, but I may not request books as a gift.
• I must revisit my planning document at the beginning of every month and create a report on my progress.

Tomorrow, I will share the final two segments of my plan: resources and rewards. In the meantime, feedback is welcome on the requirements and rules — are they aggressive enough? Too much to tackle? It’s too late to change them (I have released them to the blogging gods after all), but I always appreciate honest feedback when it comes to this kind of thing. Thanks to everyone who read the first post and shared comments on the blog or Twitter!

* Update on blogging requirement: With some thoughts from some smarties on Twitter (thanks especially to @susiewee), I am shooting for an average of three blog posts weekly, so I can accommodate spurts in blogging and times when I just don’t have a moment to blog or am away.

As I shared recently, the new year has been a catalyst for me to think more intentionally about creativity and my struggle to get it back in to my life in meaningful ways. So today, and over the next few days, I’m going to share my plan to tackle that challenge in 2009.

Even though creativity is often stereotyped as being carefree or willy-nilly, my creative life in 2009 will be anything but haphazard. I need structure to get started and hold myself accountable, so my plan (a 2500+ word document that I’ll edit into small blog posts) consists of the following parts:

• Reasons
• Realities
• Requirements
• Rules
• Resources
• Rewards

Each part will be explained as I share it. Today I’m sharing my reasons for creating this plan and realities to acknowledge as I work on it.

Reasons

Why am I doing this? I want to be a creative person again. I mean creative in a holistic sense. Creativity as a way of thinking and as an approach to living, as well as in the more traditional expressions of creativity: reading, writing, art, music, and so on.

I have not invited creativity and imagination into my life with great intention since college, when coursework kept me focused and provided me with a venue for sharing my progress. I’ve become a more analytical person since college. I’ve always had a tendency to sacrifice anything that could appear to be frivolous when more practical matters or choices demand my attention. My analytical decision-making can be pretty exacting – and it has smothered my creative attempts over the past few years.

Here is the hard truth about my creative life in 2008: I wrote next to nothing, if you don’t count a collection of journal entries. Maybe two poems? I did not read any novels. I read blogs almost exclusively, save for a few books of poetry. I did not listen to music nearly as much as I used to. I doodled a little, tried to teach myself embroidery, but never followed through on much in the way of art. I attended a few performances and events, probably my most active area of creative participation. But that was always as a spectator.

In 2008, the best thing I created was a new excuse for not attempting to be creative. I disallowed myself from participating in creative opportunities because I felt I had not earned it. This sounds really melodramatic, but here’s an example: Billy Collins judged a local poetry contest. Billy Collins is one of my favorite poets. Just getting my work in front of him would be a special thrill, regardless of whether I placed in the contest.

I didn’t allow myself to enter the contest. Maybe it’s a good old Catholic sensibility about guilt and punishment, but I felt that if I wasn’t going to take my writing seriously enough to practice it regularly, I didn’t deserve to start trying just because Billy Collins was judging a contest and I was all starry-eyed about that.

I regret being so stubborn. Stubborn about not writing, stubborn about taking away my own opportunities. Pretty stupid.

So 2009 has to be different. I need to be creative, and I need structure to avoid making excuses or unnecessarily punishing myself. Ironically, creating a plan to do this is a very analytical approach, but perhaps it’s a good exercise in beginning to marry the two parts.

Realities

Intentionally building a creative life is affected by a set of realities. I believe the more I acknowledge these realities at the outset, the less likely I am to make assumptions about my process or take my progress for granted.

• I have stability, support, and flexibility. I know these are luxuries that not everyone has, and I can’t take that for granted. If I do, it will be that much easier to take my creative life for granted.
• This is a personal commitment. No one or nothing else can be held accountable for any stumbles along the way, and in the same way, the successes will be uniquely mine.
• There are only so many hours in a day. I need to stop scheduling my time unrealistically and become more comfortable with the idea that not all time has to be actionable, and not all days need to produce something that makes a big contribution.
• I am human. (Ta da!) The truth is, I have not written or read consistently in a long time. I will make mistakes. I may even produce some crappy stuff. If it bothers me, I’ll make 2010 a year of polishing up and perfecting my craft (although “craft” seems like a highly evolved state from where I am right now, so maybe 2011? 2012?).

I expect these realities to change as I change, and it’s safe to assume I’m operating with more assumptions than I know right now. That’s part of the learning I hope to do… to get familiar with the underlying factors that affect my creativity and figure out how to manage them.

I’d love anyone’s thoughts on any of this, or links to your plans for the new year! My next post will share my requirements and rules for becoming creative in 2009. That means I have one more night to change them before I commit to anything publicly. :)