When life splats on your windshield…is it time for a creative pause?

Dear Creativity,

To say that we have had a week of ups and downs with each other is very much an understatement. There were the days where I wanted to have nothing to do with you and the days I could not wait to connect with you for the moment I sprung out of bed.  Straight talk. I know I can be real with you. Sometimes I am so inspired and motivated by our partnership and the ideas that flow like musical notes blowing in the wind through my brain that I peak and then I fall.  From being in the clouds cresting mountain tops to splatting on the dirty cold concrete surrounded by overbearing skyscrapers.

Dramatics aside, not wanting to be in partnership with you feels wrong. I spend most of my time striving to be in creative flow, making it to that sweet spot of being generative, taking action, getting feedback rinse, and repeating. However, I am realizing that when I spend too much time in one of these zones or get stuck in a rapid cycle it is then that I begin to struggle and question my relationship with you Creativity.

Seven different facial expressions of Dr. Abigail in circles

I can almost hear you chuckling at my predicament. You’ve seen this before, haven’t you? The passion, the drive, the inevitable burnout. Perhaps the answer lies in redefining our relationship. Maybe “retreat” isn’t about abandoning you entirely, but rather changing how we dance together. What if, instead of a complete withdrawal, we find ways to embrace stillness within our partnership? Like old friends who can just sit in silence with each other and know that it will all be okay.

Imagine a quiet walk in nature, where we’re not actively creating, but simply observing. Or a day spent reading, absorbing the creativity of others without pressure to produce. Even mundane tasks like folding laundry or cooking a meal can be a form of meditative retreat, allowing our minds to wander and recharge. The key, I suspect, is to release the expectation of constant output. To trust that even in moments of apparent inactivity, you’re still with me, quietly replenishing our shared well of inspiration.

So, my dear Creativity, I propose a new agreement. When the flow becomes a torrent, threatening to sweep us both away, let’s agree to find pockets of calm together. Let’s redefine “retreat” not as separation, but as a gentler form of connection – one that honors the natural rhythms of creation and rest. In doing so, perhaps we’ll discover that our passion and progress aren’t hindered by these pauses, but enhanced. And by occasionally stepping back, we gain the perspective needed to leap forward with renewed vigor when the time is right.

What do you say, old friend? Shall we explore this new terrain together?

Innovatively yours,
Dr. Abigail