by Jenna | Apr 10, 2013 | Writing Articles
Can we write when we’re surrounded by clutter?
Craving the relief from chaos
For a sensitive person, clutter is an energy drain because it’s overstimulating (one of the biggest challenges for a sensitive person). It affects your energy to work in a messy room because there’s so much more to pay attention to.
Mind you, that doesn’t stop me from doing it when push comes to shove, and in fact, my office is messier than I’d like it to be right now. At least on the surface. Underneath though, it’s fairly well-organized, so it’ll be a quick trick to whip it into shape.
One of my “huge” drawings from back in the day. :)
When I create in chaos, I’m reminded of my old urban design days, where I used shuffle piles of huge drawings late into the night, struggling to meet whatever deadline I was targeting. My office mate used to say she loved to watch me “clean up” when I finished a project, because no matter what was coming down the pike (even if there was another deadline looming), I had to stop and put everything away before I could continue.
And I do find that I can work in a cluttered space for a time, but then I crave a certain kind of relief for it, a spaciousness that leaves room for my brain and my creativity to operate more optimally.
The energy of clutter
On an energetic level, sensitive people are more tuned into the stuff around them. I’ve always felt that we “carry” the stuff that’s around us, and as it stacks up, we begin to feel more and more burdened by it. And why wouldn’t we, if we’re carrying such a heavy load?
The cool thing about dealing with clutter is that we can work with it on a couple of different levels — both the practical mundane level and the energetic level. For instance, on the practical level, you can sweep it into a box and hide it temporarily (you’re only allowed to do this if you schedule time on your calendar to deal with it :) ) or you can stop what you’re doing and take the time to put it away.
Or you can approach your clutter on an energetic level and use energy clearing techniques to get the stuck energy broken up around the stuff so that it becomes easier to put it away. Someday I may teach my “space clearing energy skills” class again, but for now, try clapping your hands over the piles of clutter and see if you can dissipate the stuck energy that way.
Are you writing or speaking enough?
There’s a fun system I used to play with called hand analysis. It identifies a “Lines of Genius” gift marking, which means being called to be a “gifted author and speaker with a special message for a large audience,” or having a “Messenger” life purpose. The idea of a gift marking is that if you don’t use it, you suffer the consequences of it. In this case, lines of genius gift marking holders will be “cursed” with piles of paper and endlessly shuffling them around, feeling like they’re spinning in circles.
The solution? Write and speak.
Put the clutter away, clear the decks, and start writing. Schedule the time on your calendar to deal with the clutter incrementally, but don’t let it stop you from writing, or it’ll just get worse. :)
by Jenna | Oct 31, 2012 | Writing Articles
Something that often comes up for writers, who are often introverts, empaths, and sensitives, is a feeling of not belonging.
I’ve noticed that this feeling of not belonging often comes up in higher stakes social situations, like conferences (whether for work or for pleasure) and parties.
I suspect that this feeling of not belonging is primarily triggered by feeling overstimulated and overwhelmed by the energy of all the different people in the room, as well as by the intensity of our own hopes and expectations about the event.
Not belonging is a kind of rejection
Of particular interest to me is that most sensitives (including me) will go through some kind of rejection process as part of dealing with their belonging issues.
Often this looks like telling ourselves, “I don’t belong here. There’s something wrong with me, I don’t fit in, I’m not as good as so-and-so at this, what was I even thinking to be here in the first place?”
But it can also look like this, “These people are horrible, what are they doing/thinking/saying that for? I can’t believe how [fill in the blank] they are being. I don’t have these problems, I don’t belong here, I’m better than they are.”
It’s a clear pattern of rejection.
In the first case, we reject ourselves.
In the second case, we reject “them.”
Rejection like this is a form of judging
Inherent in this way of thinking is judgment.
We’re either judging ourselves or judging other people.
And why?
I notice that I’m much more likely to get into this kind of pattern when I’m feeling insecure about something.
“Compare and despair”
(Martha Beck’s phrase)
It also feels a lot like comparison.
Remember what we say about comparison? Someone always loses.
I think the same thing goes for judging.
I lose when I judge, whether I’m judging myself, which is so painful, or when I’m judging someone else, because I rob myself of the opportunity to see someone as human, flawed, and imperfect, just like I am.
Judgment versus discernment
As a counterpoint to my own argument, I feel compelled to add that judgment can be a useful tool when applied as discernment. We can and should be discerning about how we invest our time, energy, and money in the world, and who we spend it with. It strikes me that judgment (at least the kind of judgment we’re talking about here) is healthy discernment run amok.
Judgment makes it personal. Discernment makes choices.
Connecting at the level of humanity
A few weeks ago, I talked about how looking from the outside in never gives us the full story about other people, so we need to be careful not to make assumptions about things like how successful other people are or not, what they really think or believe or feel about something, or what their businesses, habits, homes, or relationships are actually like.
I’ve also been observing how much pain and struggle so many of us are experiencing right now, and while I don’t like to focus on the struggle, it’s real and true.
At conferences and parties everyone tries so hard to “BE SOMEONE” they are not, it’s much more difficult to connect to the truth of their humanity, just like it’s harder to connect to our own humanity when we’re focused on the image of who we are trying to be.
The painful beauty of events like Hurricane Sandy is that they connect us together through the simple truth of being alive, something I remember all too well from the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake and the 1991 Oakland Hills firestorm.
When we can find that place of connection, by staying grounded and connected with our own bodies and looking to see the deeper souls through the eyes of the people around us, we are always safe, we always belong, and there is no need to judge.
Warmly,
by Jenna | Mar 14, 2012 | Writing Articles
Writing, creating, making changes.
All of them require a leap of faith.
I’ve been making a series of leaps over time.
I left my “great” job as an urban designer to become a coach. I put myself out there as a coach for sensitive souls. I’ve grown a business out of nothing.
I’ve claimed my dream of being a writer, and I’m making it happen. One word at a time.
Each of these mega leaps has required many mini leaps.
And I’ve realized that every day when I sit down to write, or put myself out there to be seen in some way, I am taking a leap of faith again.
With every single word I put on the page or on the web, I’m taking a risk that I’ll be seen as wrong, foolish, or stupid. I’m also taking the risk that my work will be valued and well-received. Often when I push the publish button, I DON’T KNOW which of those it will be.
It’s scary.
It requires a leap of faith to see it through.
I believe that all creating is like this. It is terrifying to make ourselves vulnerable in this way. To be seen, heard, and read by people we don’t know who may judge us or not like what we have to say.
In fact, I know there are people out there who do not like what I have to say. And there are probably people who won’t like what you have to say either.
Is that a good reason not to say it?
What about all the other people who want to hear it?
What if?
What if there isn’t anyone who is interested? What if you offend everyone?
First, I doubt that there isn’t anyone who is interested.
But secondly, if it were true that you did offend everyone, what if it was a good thing? What if you pissed us all off enough to wake us up out of the stupor we walk around in? What if it made us fight back against things we don’t like?
Art is a powerful catalyst and it deserves to be treated with reverence.
Treat your art with the fierce and reverent commitment required to bring it to the world. It’s a powerful antidote to the doubt and fear you’re likely to experience along the way.
by Jenna | Feb 1, 2012 | Reflections
Yesterday was a tough one.
It was a dark, drizzly day after a bad night of sleep, followed by a bit of bad news. And it was on the heels of a wicked cold that had me laid up Wednesday through Sunday. Not a good cocktail for a sensitive soul with work to be done.
Needless to say, I came home after dropping off my son to feeling rather adrift.
I didn’t know what I wanted to work on. None of the many items on my idea list or to do list was the least bit appealing. Even though I had come up with some nifty ideas on the way home in the car, when I sat down at my desk and confronted my computer screen, a strong feeling of despondency — and resistance —came up.
I didn’t want to do anything.
Or did I?
I checked in with my heart.
I checked in with my spirit.
I asked, “Is there anything I DO want to work on?“
The answer came back, “Yes. My script.”
(And this was even after doing my first round of writing first thing in the morning.)
So I did. I got out my latest set of assignments, turned on my timer, and dug in.
An hour later, I felt like myself again. I even went on to have a happy, productive day working with my clients and revamping my website (you can see the evidence on my Shop and Home pages).
By doing my work, by turning to my calling rather than away from it, I found myself.
by Jenna | Jan 26, 2012 | Writing Articles
Elaine Aron, author of The Highly Sensitive Person, says that “almost all HSPs have an artistic side they enjoy expressing … or they deeply appreciate some form of art.” She also says that, “almost all studies of the personalities of prominent artists insist that sensitivity is central.”
Todd Henry, author of The Accidental Creative: How to Be Brilliant at a Moment’s Notice, notes, “It’s not a rule by any means, but many creatively gifted people tend to display a natural tendency toward introversion. Perhaps the isolated nature of a lot of creative work is what calls many of us to our chosen profession to begin with. We love to get lost in the process of moving big conceptual rocks…”
(To be clear, while not all introverts are sensitives, all sensitives are introverts in the classic sense of the word “introversion”: meaning that we recharge our energy by having time alone.)
I think there’s a link between creativity and sensitivity due to the deep, rich, and imaginative inner life sensitives experience. While our vivid imaginations can run amok from time to time, it’s a powerful tool for venturing into new creative territory.
Similarly, our tendency to empathy gives us a great resource when it comes to exploring the emotional depths, which can also be a boon when it comes to creative expression.
Just the other day on Twitter, I joked about my screenwriting:
The challenges of sensitivity and creativity
I notice that the challenging aspect of both being sensitive and creative comes primarily on the audience side of things.
As Elaine Aron puts it, “The difficulty, I believe, is that normally we artists work alone, refining our craft and our subtle creative vision. But withdrawl of any kind increases sensitivity — that is part of why one withdraws. So we are extra sensitive when the time comes to show our work, perform it, explain it, sell it, read reviews of it, and accept rejection or acclaim.”
Some of my private clients and I recently did some work on this topic of “being seen” and discovered the importance of being willing to fully receive acclaim and trying not to block the massive flow of energy that comes with attention from an audience, but rather allowing it to flow through us and around us.
I was also recently reminded through my screenwriting class of the power and importance of intelligent, quality feedback to help us to improve our work.
As artists in the spotlight, we must be engaged in the exchange of our artistic expression for applause, approval, and appreciation from our audience. It is exhilarating, and while it may appear to be purely ego-driven, it is a necessary part of the equation for artistic fulfillment, at least from a life purpose perspective.
So yes, I see a link between sensitivity and creativity, and I think it brings challenges all of its own.
