The Artist’s Way Week 2: Recovering a Sense of Identity

On the twenty first day of the lockdown, I realise it has taken three weeks to complete weeks one and two. This is okay, because we are living in an extraordinary moment and I challenge anyone to say, with confidence, that their concept of time has not been stretched. Besides, I am all about nurturing my inner creator and not sabotaging my best endeavours. Still, I’d love to know how it happened. I feel like my eyes have been glued to the clock, but that is evidently not the case. Let’s review week two and say no more about the slippage.

The sense of identity which I am charged with recovering does not sit easy. I have always struggled with my identity, just as I have with belonging. What am I and if I don’t know the answer to that question, how can I belong? I imagine Julia, sitting at her desk in some unknown location, letting slip a quiet sigh and reaching for her mask of encouragement: let’s park those concerns for now Rob – but Julia, they’re the big ones! – and focus on the words on the page. Thus I learn that trusting my creativity is a new behaviour for many of us (tick) and it may come across, to me and those close by, as erratic. ‘This erraticism (is that a word?) is a normal part of getting unstuck.’ Problem is, I have been exhibiting erratic behaviour, but I’ve been putting that down to what’s happening in the outside world. I’m anxious and terrified and being erratic is not only understandable: it’s the new norm. I draw comfort from Julia’s promise that ‘going sane feels like going crazy’, which feels true for this project and for my attempts to cope with everything else.

I have to put an end to the litany of self-attacks that are undermining my progress: it’s not a temporary thing; I haven’t got the morning pages wrong (still going strong, thanks for asking); and I don’t have to come up with something big right away. Good, I like that. What I don’t like, what is a bit too close to the bone, is the description of these attacks as a creative virus. Next up are Poisonous Playmates, fellow creatives who are also blocked and who will stand in the way of my recovery in order to celebrate their martyrdom, engender sympathy and wallow in self-pity. I’m ahead of the game here, because I have largely cut myself off from my writer friends – we’ll come to this at some point – and none of my remaining playmates are remotely poisonous. If anything, I fear that my past soul-searching may have been toxic for others. Note to self: keep it zipped if you’re struggling and always encourage others. If I am going to ‘safeguard [my] newly recovering artist’, I will need to focus on my responsibilities to myself, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to put myself first. Next, I learn about ‘crazymakers’, of which, given the amount of space and not-so-passive aggression devoted to them, Julia has had her fill. I recognise the type of people she is talking about: these are the ones that surround themselves with chaos and insist that others submit to their needs. I’ve worked with them in offices, but creatively? Not at all. I’m happy to speed through this section and move on to scepticism, secret doubt, and opening the door to let the light in. We’re on familiar ground and if I ignore the stuff about the universe and (yet again) God, I can agree to ‘set scepticism aside’ in order to (here’s the hippy stuff) open my mind.

My attention is seized by a passage about, erm, Attention. It turns out that my obsession with trivia and crippling curiosity – it’s been called worse – is central to my creativity. ‘Sanity lies in paying attention’, which will make more sense one day, in a world where paying attention to the news no longer feels like a direct threat to one’s peace of mind. But it’s what you pay attention to that counts, which is perhaps why, in my morning pages a couple of days ago, I produced a lengthy list of reasons to be cheerful. Many of these came from the natural world I experience during my daily exercise; and I admit this is keeping me sane. Attention is also ‘an act of connection’ and who doesn’t need to connect right now? The stars are aligning.

POST-SCRIPT: during this week I managed the morning pages every day, kept my date with my artist (we went to the theatre, via YouTube) and shot a short film/Easter message for friends and family. The latter was a first for me and was well received. I have to ask myself what gave me the courage and the motivation to create a project like that. Creatively speaking, I can’t separate the lockdown from ‘The Artist’s Pages’, so I will credit both for now. I returned to fiction writing via short visits to an incomplete story that I had abandoned in 2017. I finished it yesterday and it’s not too shabby. I’ve also started learning Italian.

Read about Week 3 here.