I think all of us, as artists, writers, musicians -- any kind of creator, really -- would like to believe we are beyond creative burnout. That no matter what is going on in our lives, no matter the burnout we feel in those other areas.
And maybe, there are those who are immune to it, who are above and beyond such a thing. Those who have endless creative energies, who are like unicorns amidst the already colourful spirits of all who are called to create.
Unfortunately, I am not one of them.
I tried to convince myself I was for a long time. After all, I couldn't really be creatively burnt out when I was still creating, right?
Perhaps that's why it's so easy to miss. Why it was so easy for me to miss it. After all, I was still writing fiction, even if it was in short spurts with my friends. I was still getting a paragraph here or there on my novel, and blog post idesa, and new story ideas... just nothing, well, cohesive.
Aside from these moments of inspiration, the random moments where my muse whispered word after word in my ear, I struggled to write anything at all. Even the articles I wanted to write. What should have taken me a couple of hours often took me weeks. And then, the well of fiction writing dried up too.
Non-writing related projects? They also suffered. Trying to get excited about crocheting felt like trying to make myself fold the laundry or do the dishes.
It wasn't just creative burnout I was dealing with either. It was everything. But that "everything" also put the creative burnout into perspective for me.
The idea I was stretching myself too thin wasn't some earth-shattering revelation. I knew this. People who loved me, who knew my tells, had been cautioning me about it for a while. Something had to give.
Of course, it wasn't easy. Making decisions to step back from certain things in my life (like my business) didn't suddenly fix things. That's because while the actions themselves were contributors, they weren't the root. They only added it it. Time is also a factor. When you're recovering from burnout, it doesn't just suddenly happen. You don't remove the things that are contributing and suddenly you're all better. You have to wade through that darkness and find your way, one step at a time, back to the surface.
My journey though, isn't the point of the post. That's perhaps for another day.
I've realized that much like our capacity for love and affection, which is directly impacted by the love given to us, our creative cups need to be filled up regularly too. This isn't a new idea -- in fact, I'm sure someone somewhere has probably developed a TED Talk, a seminar, or written deeply about the need to invest in consuming creativty in order to keep your creativity flowing. Someone, probably, with far more research and evidence than just their own personal anecdotes.
Creative burnout, is after all, a fairly hot topic. A quick Google search reveals everything from blog posts to magazine articles, creative leaders, and more, addressing the issue.
One thing many seem to be in agreement on is that stepping back and getting reflective/introspective about where your creative energies are being spent is important in identifying where the burnout is coming from. There also seems to be agreement on the idea that taking the pressure to create off yourself is vital during a burnout.
Anyone close to me could tell you productivity is an issue for me. I have an inherent need to be productive at all times. If I have a period, even 20-30 minutes, where I can't be productive, the guilt sets in like an anchor and I begin to drown in it. What's worse is that this idea of filling my cup and my need for productivity go hand-in-hand. Activities that make me inspired, that fill my well of creativity, are often things I would classify as being unproductive. Taking time to read, or just listen to a podcast, learning about an art technique -- all of it means not doing something that progresses housework, work, etc. Even when I do those things, there's often a productivity element I work in to make myself feel better. Like setting specific reading goals that HAVE TO be achieved.
There's also the creativity drains. Like watching TV. Not that TV is always a creativity drain. Shows, movies, and video games, have often led to a great deal of inspiration for me. It's less the content and more the constant. When I don't have a solid routine that sets aside time for filling that creative cup, I tend to skip them. I focus on something that's for productivitiy (like doing something for someone else), instead of for me.
To tackle that burnout, I had to make time to engage in things that were just for me. Things like art, reading without harsh goals, bullet journalling, and put very harsh parameters around the productivity side of it. Bullet journalling had to become about simply being an interest and a joy, rather than an obsessive need to meet every tracker.
Even blogging had to be cut because I couldn't get my brain around blogging just for the hell of it again instead of feeling the need to write on a set schedule with posts that held value for others.
It took over a year to be able to start considering blogging regularly again. And even longer to actually get back to it.
That leads into my final point about avoiding or recovering from creative burnout.
Boundaries. As I'm working through therapy (going on 10 months now, that's huge for me), I am finally learning the importance of healthy boundaries, not just with others, but with myself as well. For me, that has included putting in boundaries on when I can blog according to my feelings, do art, write, and even read. I've switched to preparing blog posts by hand so that I can write the post when I feel the inspiration, but I can prevent it from morphing into the need to have content. It means I can transcribe it into a post when I feel like it, rather than needing to get it posted and find something else to write about right away.
Even making the choice not to read or play Dungeons and Dragons when I'm too tired or mentally drained has been a huge lesson. I still feel a ton of guilt when I make that choice for the latter, but I'm getting better at it.
It's not an easy process, but it's worth it in the end.
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