Dear Creativity,
I know I can keep it real with you. Being in a generative state is exhilarating. There is nothing more exciting than coming up with ideas and executing them to see what will come out on the other side. The downside of having the ideas flowing freely is that eventually, I want to break up with you. Okay, okay. I would never break up with you, Creativity, but sometimes when I have been working hard to bring my ideas to life, I could use a little break or some distance.
Last week, at the end of a long day, I decided to jump into a watercolor play class I had signed up for. I love signing up for classes because they bring me the accountability I need to take action. When it’s on my calendar and especially if I have paid for the experience, I am going to turn up. This wasn’t a paid experience, but I needed a brain break and this was going to be it. I was also excited because I had invested in a watercolor palette I was waiting to try out. Picture this…I get all set up and jump on Zoom and the topic for play is a color wheel. I don’t know what I wanted, but a color wheel was not that. However, I had my new watercolor set to explore, so I decided to stay. And although it was a highly familiar exercise, I was surprised about how good I felt at the end of the hour. Although this was an activity I experienced the month before, it got me thinking…
What is the place of repetition and routine in tapping into creative flow?
Creativity, I know you’re always there, pushing me to explore new frontiers, experiment wildly, and chase novel ideas. But last week as I reluctantly painted yet another color wheel, I realized something profound about our relationship. Sometimes, it’s in the familiar rhythms and repeated motions that I find a different kind of creative flow – one that’s gentle, meditative, and surprisingly rejuvenating. And when you add in the curiosity to change one small thing in the familiar something new presents itself out of what feels old.
You see, Creativity, I’ve often associated you with the thrill of the new. But what if you’re also present in the comfort of routine? What if those repetitive actions – like taking the same watercolor class, meeting with the same group of people to talk about the same topic, or cooking the same meal – are creating space for you to work your magic in subtler ways? Perhaps it’s in these moments of familiar practice that my mind can wander freely, making unexpected connections. Maybe the security of knowing exactly what to do next allows my subconscious to play and explore without the pressure of constant innovation.
So, my dear Creativity, I’m writing to thank you for this revelation. Thank you for showing up not just in grand inspirations, but in quiet repetitions too. I now see that tapping into creative flow isn’t always about breaking new ground – sometimes it’s about revisiting well-worn paths with fresh eyes. We can honor both sides of you: the exciting innovator and the gentle companion in routine. Creative flow can be found in both the exhilarating rush of new ideas and the soothing rhythm of familiar practices.
I look forward to all of the color wheels to come!
Innovatively yours,
Dr. Abigail
