Many of the greatest thinkers and artists have talked about periods in their lives where they could not do much more than exist. The undesired sabbatical.
Many of the greatest thinkers and artists have talked about periods in their lives where they could not do much more than exist. The undesired sabbatical.It was frustrating in nearly every case. An unplanned and highly inconvenient time of inertia.
But, at least for those who returned to their creative work to tell about it, these periods also had substantive, positive impact on their thinking, their perspectives, and their theories about life.
“There were times when I could not afford to sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to any work, whether of the head or hand…I grew in these seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance.”
– Thoreau, Walden
Sometimes we must accept that creativity is not on demand. That fermentation and integration of experiences and ideas is critical to transcend our impact to a higher level.
Perhaps there is a lesson or adjustment that must take place during this time of immobilization in order to create again.
These past few months have challenged my driven nature to not only accept that my goals were on hold, but to shift and adopt stillness in and of itself as my aim.
I laid out a grand plan for 2017 while contemplating the transition of the new year in Chiang Mai. I intentionally traveled to Thailand and Bali to take time away from production and create the space for rejuvenation. Naïve in thinking that these breaks could be planned and controlled.
An injury in Bali in January led to recovery time.
I rebounded and began putting my plans in motion in earnest in February.
A car accident two weeks later. The resulting broken hand led to recovery time.
I rebounded again six weeks later, and set about those grand plans.
An unidentifiable virus struck. I fought back with three physician visits, shots in both sides of the behind, and IV fluids. I finally succumbed to recovery time.
I rebounded yet again! One woman cannot be so unlucky!
A family crisis took me out at the knees in late May. Recovery time.
In the beginning: I was frustrated. I felt like a failure every time the fatigue or the pain stopped me from completing seemingly simple steps toward my goals. I compared myself to my role models who were moving mountains and felt like a fraud.
I had to learn this lesson the hard way.
In the end: I am eerily peaceful. I expect great challenges to change my course, and perhaps delay my plans so that they might mature.
I am making the shift from a production mentality to a thoughtful big picture, confident in the fact that I can only envision a blurry watercolor of my future, that the unexpected life experiences along the way will add ‘happy little trees’ where I had planned a lake.
If you ever watched Bob Ross, you know that fear that grips me at the pivot points.
When Bob haphazardly drops a giant sequoia down right in the middle of that gorgeous landscape, despite knowing from experience that this man knows what he is doing, you always, always experience that fleeting thought: No! What are you doing?! It was already beautiful!
After, you love the sequoias.
You see how they added an essential element. How the canvas held a boring landscape until the unexpected was added.