The first few months of all of this were the most amazing. Creativity was at a high point, I felt free, I felt giddy, and there was such a sense of awe and excitement to everything I did – even if it just meant laying down by the lake having strange ideas fill my head.

I had a routine that wasn’t structured and harsh – Up early in the morning, did some yoga, sipped tea while sitting on the couch just thinking, went into the office and sat in front of the computer and typed if something was there. If not, I’d either go for a walk, paint, create, take care of other bits, play with the cat or nap.

At this time, I was the most productive. That is when the articles that were accepted by the two magazines were written. That’s when I wrote a lot in this site. That’s when I worked on my travel writing/portfolio. Despite the fact I gave myself lots of freedom and time to just spend dreaming or sipping latte’s at the local cafe with a pen and paper, I was extremely busy with both writing and creating.

Lately, I’ve been coming up dry.

I’ll become unblocked for a moment or two and then I try to cram every thought with some sort of writing frenzy. Only to realise what I’ve written is bad and not “true.” That will send me into a pattern of feeling like I’m not good enough or creative enough and the block will start all over again.

It’s been such a vicious cycle, and I wasn’t aware of how to make it stop.

I suppose I didn’t know how to make it stop because I wasn’t sure exactly where in that cycle the problem started.

I do now. I made the connection in of all places – the bathtub.

The bathtub had been empty for months. Once an almost nightly ritual, it has become a once a month indulgence. I would often find myself saying, “I don’t have time for the tub” or “I can’t be lazy right now” or “It’s just stupid.”

But tonight I felt I needed it for some reason. So I poured the last of my bubble bath, lit some candles, cranked up the heat of the water and then dipped myself in. I shut my eyes, blocked out noise and just laid there.

And then something began to happen. My brain started to daydream and my mind came alive.

I almost spoiled it by saying, “Why does this happen NOW? I hope this doesn’t lead to another cycle? I should write this all down and get out of the tub” But I didn’t. I just remained emersed in the tub and let my brain drift as it needed to.

Later I realised that the way I had been working the past few months was that of regiment and practicality – almost as if I was in the office.

I thought I had to work so many hours, I had to do so many pages, and I had to be inspiring or creative. If I did anything other than write I was being lazy or selfish or not practical. I had put so many conditions on my writing that I think I just became afraid to write. My creative brain felt too much pressure – the same kind of pressure I had in the Corporate World. And I remember how much writing I did then – none.

When I relax, when I let myself do as I need to do, when I am at peace with myself, that is when my brain takes off.

Creativity and ideas come on their own time. I can’t force them, and after the experience of the last couple of months, I don’t think I want to.

I suppose on some level I’ve been trying to measure my work, to make me feel like I’m doing something. But I felt before that I was doing something so I guess what I was really doing was trying to prove to others that I was doing something. But by doing that, I really ended up doing nothing at all. Which is kind of funny if you think about it.

I was reading about some creative people like Van Gogh, who didn’t create for money, fame or materialistic pleasure. They created because that’s what they loved and needed to do. But they didn’t spend every minute painting or writing and in fact, by some standards, quite a few of this artistic genuius would be seen as lazy. I understand now they were just giving time to their dream.

I also read how a lot of their best works were created because they just had the urge to create – not because they were trying to make a deadline or impress someone with the 9 hours they’d put in that day. And without that kind of pressure, with just the pure simple beauty of allowing themselves the freedom to create or just be, they could not fail.

Whereas I think the past few months I’ve been setting myself up for failure because I’ve been trying to be what I thought a writer should be.

Now I realise that with writing there are no rules or structure to creativity. There isn’t a right way or a wrong way. There isn’t a time card to punch at the end of the day or anything to prove. Creativity isn’t about that. Creativity is simply about creating and expressing something – not trying to prove something.

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