by Naomi | Jun 26, 2015 | Tools & Apps
Object: Reminding myself to play a little in the middle of a busy work-day.
What Didn’t Work: Telling myself to lighten up. Brow-beating myself when I got to the end of the day and realized I hadn’t even taken even two minutes to have fun… major fail on the play front. Was I a hypocrite, preaching play yet never doing it myself?
My Aha! Moment: My mom gave me a set of Smencils for Christmas. There’s something about smell that touches your heart and transports you someplace different. Just try to write with a root-beer scented pencil and stay in a no-nonsense mood.
- I keep my smencils on my desk and pull one out every now and again when I need to brainstorm and would like to add a little play to the process.
- Keep your smencils in their containers, so they maintain their scents as long as possible.
Take it to the Next Level:
- Bring out your smencils for your next team meeting or one-on-one session. Let your colleagues or students in on the fun, and add some whimsy to your time together.
by Naomi | Dec 23, 2014 | Creative Life
A few years ago, I made a decision that changed my life. Even though I had a BFA in Theatre Arts and was pursuing an MFA in Writing for Children, I felt like someone pretending to be an artist. All around me, highly creative people produced inspired work. I was the ugly step-sister craftsperson. I worked hard, sure, but I was also too careful, too structured. While my work was adequate, lightning wasn’t striking.
I’d hit my natural ceiling. Without drastic action, I wasn’t going to grow. The moment that actually pushed me over the edge was an editor reading my manuscript and telling me, “You’re not writing what you need to be writing. This story is well-written, sure, but you–you’re not in here.”
Why was being an artist so important to me? To me, living life as an artist meant risking asking the big questions. It meant stretching to my outer limits and beyond. It meant seeking truth in the hopes of shining light for others. My role models, Madeleine L’Engle and C.S. Lewis, had both done this with their work. Their fiction and nonfiction had reached out of the pages of their books and challenged me to live a bigger, a more meaningful, life. No one could guarantee that my work would have this significance, I knew. However, if I only dipped my toe into the creative ocean and never dared to dive in, well… my work would never have more than toe-dip impact.
At the time, I was writing my creative thesis on the importance of play in the creative process. I’d been approaching this task intellectually, squishing every last bit of fun out of my play. I was trying to force myself to act like an artist, all the time becoming less and less inspired. So, I wrote to my graduate advisor and announced, “I’m going to write a play, a hero’s journey, about my process of learning how to play. I’m going to start now.”
She responded: “Cool!” and then, “Are you sure it will work?” I wasn’t, to be honest. But I assured her it would. In the end, committing to the process was what made it work. I wrote the play and produced it. Through the process of journaling, shaping the story, rehearsing with the cast, creating costumes, sets and choreography, composing music, and learning how to edit video, I battled some of my deepest challenges: perfectionism, the need for control, and the search for my unique voice in the sea of creative voices in the world, to name a sampling.
After the play ended, though, I felt at odds. I’d been engaging with life in a new way, but after we finished the production, I slipped back into life as usual. My old habits returned, stomping down those fresh shoots of artistry that had started to sprout.
Fast forward to December 2014. My inbox was being bombarded with offerings of goal-setting courses and books. I watched some of the videos and listened to two very insightful books, The One Thing by Gary Keller and Essentialism by Greg McKeown. I went through Donald Miller’s Creating Your Life Plan. As pieces fell in place, I realized I needed a practice that combined the inner work I needed to do with my outer goals, work and otherwise. We are not simply what we do, but what we focus our energy on day in and day out can’t help but affect who we become.
What I needed was a new hero’s journey. So, I made another decision. I decided to try a hero’s journey experiment this year. I’m going to share some thoughts along the way here, on my blog, because I know a travelogue can often help a traveler experience sights and experiences on a deeper level. Perhaps my travels will inspire you to ask a new question or to try an experiment of your own. We’ll see what happens together.
Here’s how I’m setting out.
I put together a journal in which I reviewed key successes from last year, as well as habits and thinking I need to let go. I added pages where I can map out the journey and take notes along the way for each stage. One tool I knew I’d need was a symbol to help me transition from stage to stage. I bought small coins, and plan to drop each into a fountain or wishing well as I say goodbye to one stage and hello to the next. Also, to keep myself open to the possibilities, I’m collecting one thought per day in my hero’s journey book. For instance, when I’m Listening for the Call, I’ll write down one word or phrase per day. Then, when I come to the end of the month and am ready to Cross the Threshold, I can review the cards to see what pattern emerges from the sum of those days.
I started, of course, with Ordinary Life. What does that mean? I’ve been working on noticing where I am, right here and now. I’ve been organizing and decluttering my spaces, making room for whatever might be coming next. Another focus has been on building healthy habits such as exercise and blocking off regular time for writing. I’ve been practicing saying no, when appropriate.
I’m planning on tossing my first coin into a fountain around January 1. Then, it will be time to start Listening for the Call. I can’t help but believe that something extraordinary might show up. In any case, I know that by committing to the journey, I am engaging with life. I’m living the artist’s life.
by Naomi | Sep 14, 2012 | Creative Life
Have you ever wondered why books don’t start with the words: THE BEGINNING? We all take such joy in typing THE END on that very last page.
Maybe the reason we don’t start with THE BEGINNING is because life doesn’t work that way. Often we don’t realize an event was a beginning until long after the story is completely in motion. This week, I had the privilege of witnessing a beginning, though, and the most fun part was the realization that I was at the beginning of something very special.
I am passionate about teaching. I’ve worked with thousands of young people on theatrical productions and creative writing, but this week, for nearly the first time, I began a creative writing class for adults. I approach all my teaching with a playful style, and maybe that’s why I’ve directed my attention at young people who are more open to “getting out of their seats and moving around the room,” or using colored markers and index cards to plot a book. The fact is, many adults are hesitant to let loose and play. Yet, the power of play is powerful for adults, maybe even more than it is for young people.
Young people are often in situations in classrooms or after school classes where they are asked to interact playfully. This is not the case for adults, and so when adults are given the green light to play, amazing discoveries ensue. We all know the feeling of being stuck, of having looked at a project so long that we simply can’t see it anymore. A game provides a new lens through which to look, and a new hopeful perspective too. The questions shift. “What should I do?” and “What’s the right answer?” become “What could I do?” and “What’s a possible answer?” This change may seem small, but the implications are huge. We don’t have to be right or perfect or efficient. We can just play with ideas and see what emerges.
I asked the ladies in my class how they felt after our hour an a half. They said, “I can’t believe how much I got done! I can’t believe how much new perspective I have!” Through play, we let go of our need to be grown up and serious and careful, and somehow we made strides we hadn’t been able to make otherwise.
I’ve been listening to a new book by Brene Brown called Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent and Lead. In this book, Brene Brown shares reflections on her research on wholehearted living, on how vulnerability is essential for all people, and how shame affects all of us (whether we’re willing to admit it or not). What I’m realizing is that what I saw firsthand in my class, and what I’m hearing Brene detail from her research, all matches up with my own life experience. Opening up to experiences that make us feel vulnerable is terrifying, and yet one can’t be creative (or even fully human) without these experiences. Play is key. When we play, we shift into a mode where vulnerability is simply part of the game. We bypass our grown up critic who tells us that we might ruin our idea or humiliate ourselves by trying something at which we’re not sure we can succeed. We tap into that child we carry with us all the time, the child who loves to laugh and be messy and try new things and learn and who knows the delicious joy of discovery.
So, what do I think is beginning? Something exciting. Something huge and important. It starts with me. I’m learning that not only is learning to be vulnerable and play important for my life, it’s important for others. Not just children. Adults too. Artists. All people. I think I’m realizing what I need to start shouting from the mountaintops and what I need to share with anyone who will listen. You’re feeling stuck? Let’s play. And not in a way that diminishes the difficulty of what’s going on. Not in a naive way. Play might be one of the very most important things that a person can do. The strange thing is, the only way to play is to be willing to be silly and let go of expectations. Stuart Brown MD, founder of the National Institute for Play, insists that true play is “apparently purposeless.” The point is, you can’t create a five point plan or set a timer and tally up results afterward. You’ve just got to let go. Just play.
And in the meantime, read these amazing books by these visionary thinkers. Their research and insights will transform your daily life.
Object: Reminding myself to play a little in the middle of a busy work-day.
