Midlife Creative

How many times did you say or think the word “should” today? Here’s my list.

I should wake up earlier I should not let my kids be watching YouTube.
I should not let my kids eat candy.
I should make my kids read.
I should make my kids do more chores. I should finally work on that website. I should return that phone call. I should start running. I should be more like that teacher I saw online.
I should….

These “shoulds” represent external expectations that we have internalized. Everytime we “should on ourselves”, we pile on guilt and shame. We compare our real life to the ideal life we imagine.

Where did this “should” come from? Is it important to me or only important because of how others view me?

Instead of asking what you “should” do, ask yourself “what is most important to me?”

What are your values? Recognize that differences in preferences and approach to life are healthy, even amongst your friend group. Appreciate the people around you and celebrate what they bring to the table. Realize that your friends’ strengths do not need to be your strengths.

Pay attention to the “shoulds” that come into your head today and replace them with “I will” or “I want” or even “I feel pressure to”. Explore your “shoulds” with curiosity. You may just learn that some of them can be discarded or set aside for now.

The news is reporting how difficult this quarantine is for adults who must work from home or not work at all, but what are we hearing about the kids? I have four kids ranging from 5 to 18. They are home. I have been trying to teach piano lessons online in the living room 15 hours a week while the kids fend for themselves. My husband is struggling with the loss of his business and looking for work.

I thought the kids were doing quite well, but tonight the younger two broke down and cried themselves to sleep. They miss school, they miss their friends, they miss their old life full of trips to the mall, arcade, play dates, and parks. I think grief hits us in waves. We think we are fine, and then we’re not. It has not hit me yet. Maybe because I am working so hard to be strong for everyone around me.

The kids are sad and confused. I’m sure the explanations of quarantine and corona virus make no sense to them, especially those younger than age 10.

What are you doing to help your kids deal with disappointment? Have your kids been asking questions about the future? I would love to hear your experiences.

It could be assumed that regardless of our age, we are all going through a time of transition. During this Covid-19 quarantine, many have transitioned to working from home and distance learning for students. Our world has transitioned from a frenetic over-scheduled life to a much slower pace with fewer alarm clocks and traffic jams.

For those who have given birth or been with a woman in labor, you know that transition is the final phase of labor when the woman’s cervix moves from 8-10 centimeters. It’s the time during labor when the pain intensifies to its peak. Contractions are strong, and close together, often overlapping.

During this quarantine, we are in a transition time. It’s a time between what was and what will be. Much like labor, we cannot predict how long it will last or how it will unfold. The pain it is causing varies from person to person. What we do know is that we are not going through the transition for no reason. We cannot go through a crisis without it changing us.

I hope this season will bring about something new and beautiful.

What is this time of transition leading to? What will the world look like when this period of time is over? Will life ever go back to the way it was?

We must all take time to grieve the things we have lost. Jobs, income, travel, entertainment, time with friends, graduations, camps, and for some, losing a loved one.

Willingly entering into the pain is an important part of transition.

Just like during a birth, trusting your creator, accepting help from your support team, breathing, and focus on the goal – new life – will bring you through this labor of transition.

For those who have went through child birth, maybe you can remember things to share with others that helped you through the painful experience. I know it’s not the perfect analogy, but it is what makes sense for me today.

How can we support one another in this labor of love that we call “Sheltering in Place?”

We are all grieving whether we admit it our not.

Grieving all the little things that add up to big things.

Grieving the loss of human touch and physical closeness.

The loss of our work which brings us a sense of purpose.

The loss of live art and entertainment. No more theater, movie theaters, restaurants, art museums, and indoor play places.

The loss of libraries, gyms, and public meeting places where neighbors gather.

The loss of income, bringing a deep uncertainty of the future.

The loss of schools and colleges. A realization that we took for granted the caring teachers, companions, and consistent routine.

The loss of freedom to move about. We can no longer hop in our cars or on a bus and see where the day takes us. There are no more spontaneous days of bar hops, art crawls, and sporting events.

The loss of hospitality. The ceasing of in person community. No more sharing soup with neighbors or play dates or birthday parties.

What is happening to our world?

It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. Why can’t we visit and touch the elderly parents we love who are also grieving. Why must the most vulnerable be left alone?

Take time to grieve.

It’s ok to feel sad. A lot of little things lost add up to a big Loss. The loss of a life that we took for granted.

Being a piano teacher I have become accustomed to the question “have you practiced this week?” Usually the answer is yes or no, BUT…. I had a lot of homework, I was sick, we were out of town, I didn’t have time, and then the occasional bursting into tears or running out of the room. I’ve been asking myself a lot of questions around why the question of practice and why the word has gotten such a bad rap. I think there are two reasons students really don’t practice and those same two reasons can apply to homework, creative goals, and many other areas.

#1. The task is uninteresting or boring to me.

#2. The task is too difficult and mastery seems a long way off.

How do we reverse this bad stigma around the word practice for the young students in our lives and ourselves as we are never done learning? I have made some changes in my teaching style and the way I approach my language with first time students, asking them to play everyday instead of practice everyday.

“The reason why kids want to learn an instrument is to make exciting sounds.”

Marvin Blickenstaff

This idea carries over to so many areas in our creative lives. We play with creativity because we like the feeling of creating sounds, colors, textures, and new ideas. It is not usually about becoming a master. For most, it’s about enjoyment.
Small children begin their lives with play, and then eventually shift from play to work mode in an effort to earn money or prove their worth. As adults, life becomes more about proving ourselves and less about finding delight in the creative process. I am not saying that disciplined daily practices are not important. What I am saying is that if we approach our practices with a playful attitude, expecting to enjoy the practice instead of dreading it, we will be more likely to stick with it long term.

Do you have a daily creative practice? Do you look forward to it? Do you see it as play?

I am making a goal to play the piano every day during the month of March. Would you like to join me in starting a daily creative playtime? Here are some ideas. Choose one that suits you or add your own.

In selecting your creative play, you might want to consider the two biggest setbacks that I mentioned earlier. Don’t choose something that has no meaning to you or that you get bored with quickly, and don’t choose something that is too difficult or frustrating. Think play, not perfection.

Let me know if you are attempting a daily creative practice. Let’s cheer each other on! Join the Midlife Creative Facebook group to continue the conversation.

I do a lot of walking. As I walk, my mind wanders in a million directions, but my feet typically stay on the same path. I walk the same route day after day. I rarely go off course or venture off the road most traveled. I have always been a “play it safe” person. Lately, I’ve begun to wonder if my predictable patterns are routines or ruts?

One day, I decided to walk a little further and take a turn instead of going straight. I discovered a tunnel that led under a freeway and into a nature preserve. I thought to myself, “I didn’t even know this path was here and I have walked past it dozens of times”

Who pushes you to step out of your ruts and into new ways of thinking and living? Who challenges you to question, change gears, and take intentional detours? I have many routines in my life that are very helpful and won’t be changing anytime soon. I have some great routines around the house that keep the dishes and laundry done and assure that we don’t order pizza more than once a week. I also have routines that remind me to read, write, and rest.

But, I admit that I fall into unhelpful ruts very easily. One of my biggest ruts right now is obsessively checking social media and email throughout the day. I tell myself that it’s unnecessary and unfulfilling, but I keep checking it over and over again.
I have decided to take a week off my phone (except for answering phone calls and texts) as a way of resetting this habit pattern.

Taking a new path means facing some unknowns. Going without a phone seems small, but it is an important shift for me. Some of you may have bigger ruts that are much more difficult to pull out of. Changing careers, leaving abusive relationships, moving, speaking up about something you believe in when you know the people around you won’t agree. We all have ruts that we find ourselves settling into. Forging a new path can feel lonely. We may need to ask for help.

Shifting our direction and walking in faith instead of fear speaks volumes to others who are watching. We can become leaders for those who have always wanted to step out of their ruts, but haven’t had the courage. Our changes, even the small changes, can make a way for others to follow in our footsteps.

My rut for today is social media addiction. Becoming aware of your own rut requires slowing down and making observations. Do you want to change? Do you want to try something new? Do you want to grow? What’s holding you back? Tell someone. Then, take some baby steps out of your rut, and see what you discover.

Parenthood is about celebrating the child you have, not the child you thought you would have. It’s about understanding that the little person whose diapers you are changing and laundry you are washing will some day become an adult.

When I began this journey of parenting I had an idea in my mind of how things were supposed to go. From the very start, nothing seemed to go according to my grand plan. A natural, drug free water birth turned into a 30 hour labor that wouldn’t progress and ended in a C-section. My plan to breastfeed became bottle feeding. My plan to send my daughter to public school turned into homeschooling.
Being a parent was everything I hoped for and at the same time, nothing I expected.

My first born was so unique. She knew what she wanted and let everyone around her know it. She had strong opinions and a loud voice to make them known. There were foods she liked to eat and foods she refused. There was no such thing as bed time like other kids. She just couldn’t get to sleep.

Her interests were specific and intense. When she cared about a subject, she set out to learn everything there was to know about it. When she turned 2, my husband bought her a U.S. puzzle. By 3, she knew all the states and could put it together by herself. She quickly moved onto the countries and their capitals and began reading study guides for the national geography bee. She had a Birds of Prey phase in the beginning of 1st grade. She devoured books about birds and visited Hawk Ridge and the Eagle Center. Other phases included Shakespeare, Novel writing, Anime, and Japanese.

I homeschooled my daughter from 2nd-6th grade, but she taught me way more than I taught her. I learned about twice exceptional learners (those who are ahead of their peers intellectually, but fall behind in other areas like emotional regulation or social skills). Her anxiety began affecting her health when she turned 11 and developed unexplained stomachs pain and trouble sleeping.
When she reached her pre-teen years, she felt isolated being home all the time with just a few scattered friends, mostly online. She decided to try a performing arts high school. It ended up being a great fit.

At 15, she went through testing for autism spectrum disorder (ASD). The diagnosis came as a relief. I could finally find language to explain why school and social interactions had been such a challenge. She was able to reach out to others on the autism spectrum and ask for advice about her concerns.

My daughter, Ellie Charis, has taught me so much. Being her mom and walking through this life alongside her has been one of the most challenging and rewarding things I’ve ever done.

Ellie has an incredible mind. She feels deeply and speaks out about the issues and the people she cares about. Her current passions are play writing and directing, LGBTQ rights, and climate change activism. She marches to the beat of her own drum and her example has challenged me to find my own rhythm in life that may or may not look like what I expected.

A Book Review of The Artist’s Way
by Julia Cameron

During a season of my life when I was deep in the weeds of mothering, I picked up this book, recommended to me by a friend. Little did I realize that I had an artist hiding inside me that needed to come out. Julia Cameron believes that everyone is born creative, but most neglect their artistic leanings as they get older and are told that making art doesn’t matter or should not be made a priority.

This book is unique in that it starts with a contract. The contract says “I ______________ understand that I am undertaking an intense guided encounter with my own creativity. I commit to weekly reading, daily morning pages and an artist date every week for the next 12 weeks. I ______________ commit to excellent self care, adequate sleep, diet, and exercise during the duration of the course.”

I signed the contract and decided to give it a try.

The Morning Pages. I was familiar with journaling, but never every single day, and never with the assurance that nobody else would read what I wrote. The pages were to be destroyed upon writing. There was a freedom in knowing that my thoughts didn’t need editing and didn’t need to pass through a people pleasing filter.

The Artist Date Cameron describes artist dates as a 2 hour chunk of time once a week spent pleasing your “inner artist child”. My artist dates included hiking, going to museums, thrift shopping, and cooking. The first few times, 2 hours seemed like a long time and felt extravagant and selfish. I was tempted to shorten my time and do something more “productive” like grocery shopping or errands. With time and practice, I realized that 2 hours is the perfect amount of time and occasionally a whole day is more fitting, depending on the activity.

I highly recommend the Artists Way. If you want to get the most out of it, try going through it with a group or asking one person to keep you accountable to the contract of morning pages and artist dates. It is harder than it sounds. I only did the morning pages about half the days and an artist date every 2-3 weeks, but the message of the book changed me, and I will be forever grateful to Julia Cameron for writing it.