Courageously Creative Book Club: There is Nothing Wrong With You
When I need a dose of inspiration, I’ve learned one sure-fire way to get some: read.
Touching another person’s mind through their writing ignites a cascade of ideation for me. Sometimes I make a connection to an idea I came across before and a bigger picture unfolds in front of me; sometimes a writer puts something I’ve experienced into words that enable me to understand my own experience in a new way.
I decided that it would be hella cool to use inspiring books as a springboard for regular blog posts and newsletters, so… welcome to my very first “Virtual Book Club!”
Now, I like a long blog post and hey, I like to do my thing my way. But I know it’s a lot to read, so I decided to break this up. The bulk of the writing for Virtual Book Clubs is here on the blog, but I’m not done yet. Newsletter subscribers get a bonus after the blog goes live: look for an email containing extra ways to interact with the ideas. Think journal prompts, tarot spreads, or whatever else I come up with! (If you’re not a subscriber yet, then head on over here to get all signed up.)
I’m kicking off this segment with a high-dive into the deep end, looking at what’s often at the root of our creative frustration: feeling unworthy of our own creative desires.
While we often think of “creativity” as being almost analogous to “crafty,” a fun thing we may do with yarn or glitter or words, at the essence of it, creation is about bringing something into existence that didn’t exist before. This applies to pretty much anything. There is a necessary uniqueness to it–I simply can’t create like you do, because whatever you bring into existence comes from your unique experience, body, and beliefs.
What we create is a manifestation of who we are.
So…what happens when we aren’t completely convinced that who we are is valuable enough to make valuable things?
Creating is intimately connected to our relationship with ourself. So, if we’re feeling critical of who we are, our creativity chokes. This place is where I love the message of Cheri Huber’s book, There is Nothing Wrong With You:
Somewhere along the line, you concluded there was something wrong with you.
Of course you did! What else could you conclude?
If there was nothing wrong with you, people wouldn’t treat you that way!
They wouldn’t say those things to you!
WRONG!
‘Then why did they do that to me?’
Because it was done to them. Because we do what we’ve been taught.
Society calls this ‘child rearing’ or ‘socialization.’
We call it ‘sad.’
—Cheri Huber
Huber explains how, in an imperfect world, we all end up picking up the idea that we’re less than we “should” be. It’s not always anyone’s fault (though sometimes it is–not going to downplay that if it’s true for you.)
[This goes deep. It’s so deep, it’s universal. This isn’t just some idea I found in a book; this has been my journey. In fact, it’s only been recently that I learned that loving and valuing who I am—simply because I am an extant human with inherent worth—is possible. Most of my life, I didn’t know inherent worth was a thing. Honestly looking at these beliefs has made—is continuing to make—a difference in my life that I can barely comprehend. It’s hard work though, so let me offer to virtually steep you some tea and sit next to you, friend.]
So, if we have the idea that who we are is “wrong” in some way, and what we create is a manifestation of who we are, then it makes sense that we would see what we create as “wrong,” too. What’s more, we’ve picked up the notion that being hard on ourselves is the way to make us be “better.” So we end up being hard on ourselves around creative expression. Ouch.
[OK, hugs. It gets better. This is where I realized that the reason I wasn’t creative the way I longed to be was because I didn’t see myself as worthy of what I wanted. Being able to identify this belief is powerful, because when I hold that belief up to the light…it falls apart.]
Noticing the pattern is the first step out of it. How are you punishing your creativity to punish yourself into being “better?” Do you have a critical voice running in your head saying things like:
It’s irresponsible…
I’m not any good at this…
People would find out that I’m …
What are you getting out of criticizing yourself? Be gentle, and honest. For me, it simply feels safer to keep my creative dreams to myself, blaming everything else outside me rather than admit I’m denying my dreams trying to punish myself into being worthy of them.
Huber teaches us that the antidote to self-punishment is self-acceptance and self-compassion. (Not more beating ourselves up! Because that shit never ends.)
Instead, she suggests doing something that the critical voice doesn’t want to let you do. Something small is great. Maybe even something…creative?
“Anytime you hear the voice of self-hate, do something for yourself that will make it crazy. Buy yourself a present. Sit down and read for pleasure. Take a long, hot bath…Whatever it is that you can’t let yourself do.”
Notice the internal chatter that comes up. When it gets a little nasty, take a loving breath. Place your hand on your heart or belly if that feels supportive to your body. Particularly notice any thoughts that resemble “supposed to” statements:
I’m not supposed to do this—I should be…
Wait, I’m supposed to love myself more…
Allow yourself to let go of the critical statements by fully dropping into the activity you chose. Simply observe whatever is happening using your senses.
Let’s say you decided to pull out your old paints, and the critical voice in your head starts nagging you about how this is a waste of time. And then you start feeling worse because this is supposed to be fun. It was once! Now you’re worried about a mess. What’s wrong with me that I can’t think of what to paint?! Didn’t my old art teacher complain that I never got noses right, but I’m not supposed to care what that old bat said…
Perfect time for a breath. How might it look to drop the “supposed to?” Just make an observation that contains no judgment.
I am a human using their paints this afternoon.
The smell of my art supplies reminds me of how fun painting was as a kid.
The paint looks pretty when I move the brush this way.
I’m a human having a quiet moment, making something.
There’s nothing inherently “good” or “bad” about being a human today, doing a thing that humans do. When we can step out of judgment into gentle observation, we create space for honesty, discovery—space for magic to unfold.
“Can you stop trying to change into who you should be and who you wish you were long enough to find out who you really are?”
Who you really are has dreams of all sizes, all inherently creative. It’s part of being a human. We’re cool like that.
Remember to subscribe to the Reflections newsletter, in which I’ll share some more ways to interact with the ideas here. I hope you’ll join me!
