Inward

From "Gift from the Sea" by Anne Morrow Lindbergh:
I had left off with Anne talking about the importance of being alone, and finding "that inner stillness." Then she goes on with:
"The problem is not entirely in finding the room of one's own, the time alone, difficult and necessary as this is. The problem is more how to still the soul in the midst of its activities. In fact, the problem is how to feed the soul.
...Mechanically we have gained, in the last generation, but spiritually we have, I think, unwittingly lost. In other times, women had in their lives more forces which centered them whether or not they realized it; sources which nourished them whether or not they consciously went to these springs. Their very seclusion in the home gave them time alone. many of their duties were conducive to a quiet contemplative drawing together of the self. They had more creative tasks to perform. Nothing feeds the center so much as creative work, even humble kinds like cooking and sewing. Baking bread, weaving cloth, putting up preserves, teaching and singing to children, must have been far more nourishing than being the family chauffeur or shopping at super-markets, or doing housework with mechanical aids. The art and craft of housework has diminished; much of the time-consuming drudgery - despite modern advertising to the contrary - remains. In housework, as in the rest of life, the curtain of mechanization has come down between the mind and the hand.
..(One) must consciously encourage those pursuits which oppose the centrifugal fores of today. Quiet time alone, contemplation, prayer, music, a centering line of thought or reading, of study or work. It can be physical or intellectual or artistic, any creative life proceeding from oneself. It need not be an enormous project or a great work. But it should be something of one's own.... What matters is that one be for a time inwardly attentive."

Lindbergh's book is primarily about women. But I think it is universally true, for men and women. Why do we love to go camping? Men chop the firewood and stoke up the fire, pitch the tent and devise clever ways to hang tarps over tables and chairs, women putter around, fixing meals and fetching water and wringing out the wet clothes... It's like we all just suddenly relax into our natural roles. (Lots of women will fight me on this point. For some stupid reason, it's considered anti-feminist. Whatever. If I swing that axe, it's gonna end up in my leg. Please just let me cook the stew. Other women, do what you want.) And these comfortable and natural roles, separated from all the complications of technology and culture, often compel us to be creative, to figure out our own methods. I think it's really hard today for men and women, because these old-fashioned roles are so scoffed at, and undervalued. We're told in school that each of us needs to follow our dreams, and reach for the stars. Be lawyers, vets, astro-physicists, journalists. They don't teach us that we also could bake bread, and that that is also very important and worthy. We're fed a bullshit line about one lifestyle, and one type of work that follows a linear progression, from school to career. Even artists get fed this line. Since when did artistic development follow a linear progression? I'm straying from my point, but basically I'm trying to say that we are struggling with identity and self-worth, because our natural roles as men & women are being more and more looked down upon as irrelevant and out-dated. And that a simple and fulfilling life full of simple but creative work is not on the list of post-graduate options. It's in our inherent, birth-given gifts and natural abilities that we're able to most effortlessly express ourselves, and people so easily lose touch with these creative sources when they are pushed into molds. I think that's my point. We step away from our inherent tendencies and desires to strive for big and important things, and lose all our creativity in the process.

I really do believe that this lack of creativity rots out the core. If I look to all of my depressions I find the common theme. When I'm not doing my music (I don't mean for a day, but for a period of time) I start to feel like I'm dying. Like a bud withering on the stem. It's awful. And even if whatever I'm doing is seemingly creative (like when I was working full time as a choral singer and accompanist), if it isn't coming from inside me, it's worthless. If there's no room for your own expression, you may as well be stuffing envelopes in a dark cubicle. It's a really tricky balance as an artist. Projects come your way that offer good pay, and look great on a resume - all that ego seduction. But a lot of the time, the people who hire you just want to use your sharpened creative tools to express their own art. You end up feeling weirdly used, and bored, and sometimes compromised because the drivel you churn out for them is something you don't believe in. It's really tough. On the other hand, sometimes collaborations can turn into fantastic opportunities for lighting all your artistic fires. You gotta play the field carefully, all right, and make your choices wisely.

I count myself really fortunate right now, because my job allows me creativity (even though it's an office job), in that I devise all my own methods and get to constantly look for ways to improve my systems. That's fun and creative, and in a way I wouldn't normally get to explore.
The memory work is going really well, and I'm finding it so fulfilling. You'd think repetition work would be boring, but it's not. It focuses my mind, and puts the body in line with it. I'm really rediscovering my songs, am constantly being surprised by what I've written. Sometimes I can't resist just stopping at a chord and thinking, 'where did I come up with that?' and playing around with it for a while. The thing that really blows me away is that I have no memory of writing this stuff - no memory of the process - and know that it didn't really come from me. I don't want to sound too spiritual-spooky, but just indulge me for a sec. The good stuff, the best of my music - it comes from somewhere else. That's all I'm saying.
..