When you’re about to take a reluctant summer sabbatical, you want to step out on a high note. You want to leave wise words for anyone who happens by while you’re away, something a little more pithy than “Back soon, thanks for dropping by.”
This will be my last post until September. It’s a few days late (and for those of you who were wondering, yes, there are still issues with the feed).
As I sat working on a number of uninspiring first drafts, this little gem drifted by on my Twitter stream, from @Marelisa:
“It takes as much energy to wish as it does to plan.”
—Eleanor Roosevelt
And within minutes, from @escapeintolife:
“You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land, there is no other life but this.”
— Henry David Thoreau
Puts a few things into perspective, doesn’t it.
If only it were as easy as tacking a couple of inspirational quotes on your bulletin board.
Many creatives I know are also involved in arts organizations. Some serve on the board of directors, some on committees, and others volunteer or donate to special events. Today’s post is written by Maureen Carruthers, who works in the nonprofit sector. When I met Maureen, I was immediately impressed by her thoughtful commitment to her work and her dedication to her community. She has some words of wisdom for both artists and arts organizations to help keep up your mental momentum.
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If you spend any amount of time on the internet, you know there is no shortage of advice on how to make your life, business, and art better.
Most of that advice is about all the new things you need to do to keep up. Blog more often, take more classes, create more genuine relationships—more, more, more.
It’s a lot of pressure. So much that it’s easy to believe you will never be good enough, never know enough, never make enough impact. From that place, one starts to wonder if it’s worth trying to move forward at all. All the well meant advice about how to get better, actually stops us in our tracks.
The same thing happens to organizations.
A little while ago I had a conversation with life and creativity coach Dawn Kotzer. I like Dawn. She lives farther out in the woods than I do, appreciates the power of metaphor, and knows her stuff, inside and out—particularly the inside part.
We were talking about being stretched too thin and what that does to your psyche and professional life when she posed a slightly terrifying question:
“What if you did nothing at all?”
Do you ever feel a vague sense of discomfort when you’re about to start a project, write something important, or show new work?
Maybe that feeling of unease isn’t so vague. Maybe it’s very clear and very loud.
What do you do when that happens?
Let me begin by saying that when you experience genuine enjoyment while vacuuming your house, it might be a sign of creative burnout.
I’d also like to tell you a long period without what most people consider a vacation isn’t necessarily a cause for alarm—provided your schedule and the work you do allows you to recharge your batteries.
And finally, with your indulgence, I would like to inform you it’s possible to nearly destroy a lifelong love of something if you approach it the wrong way.
Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
