The Opposing Forces of Creativity

by Debbie Bateman

Photo by Dynamic Wang on Unsplash

Seeking a Common Purpose

No wonder engaging in a daily creative practice can feel like a strain. We’re asked to do the seemingly impossible, to bring together opposite forces in harmony towards a common purpose, and to switch effortlessly between acceptance and refusal. Intervals of reckless welcoming of ideas must be balanced by a more critical approach that turns ideas away, keeping only a few. This alternating between seemingly irreconcilable forces can feel like waging war against your very self. How are we meant to navigate this peacefully and complete works that benefit from both ways of looking at things?

Freeing Ideas

Creativity for me begins with unrestrained collecting of random ideas. Call it list-making if you want. I blast out possibilities free of worry, trusting the right ones will float to the top, where I can skim them off and set them aside to consider and deepen the thoughts before creating another list. And so on.

Because there are no limits and the expectations are not yet fully known, this part of the process is often fun. It’s like running as fast as you can, like being a little girl in bare feet on freshly mown grass, zipping along a full row of houses, none with a fence. Freedom.

Shaping a Narrative

At some point, shaping of the narrative must begin. A string of playful ideas, even delightful ones, grows boring sooner than you might think. Eventually, the random collection of ideas must coalesce into a gradually clearer intention. Some ideas will be set aside. This can’t be avoided. Even really good ideas if they do not serve the narrative, must be released back into the wild.

This is so fundamentally different from the earlier welcoming of whatever happens to show up, it can feel jarring, and a person can wonder if they are capable of such restraint. Who wants to put on shoes after having been barefoot? Who wants fences?

Other creative souls may experience it the other way around. They may wonder if they’re capable of the unrestrained welcoming. Organizing and filtering may come more easily for them and that may be where they prefer to start.

We are all built differently. Each artist finds their own way.

Enlarging the Scope

Not long ago, I began revising the first draft of a memoir. Switching to organizing mode is within the scope of my patience when the form under construction is short. It becomes harder when the form is long. It can feel like starving to death or grief to let go of the reckless welcoming of ideas and to instead become a hyper-critical parent who seems impossible to please.

I spent an entire month, not writing but reviewing my writing and looking for big picture shaping. At first, it was invigorating to leave my desk and settle into a comfy chair with a notepad. As the weeks wore on, it grew laborious.

Changing My Mind

To be honest, I never completed this review of the entire manuscript. Instead, I gave in to the hunger and returned to the hands-on contact with individual words, revising the manuscript scene-by-scene, line-by-line. I have promised myself that once my belly is full, I will return to the big picture.

Have I perhaps discovered something useful? The heart wants what it wants and if I want to engage with individual words, why shouldn’t I? Supposing I’d persisted with big picture thinking, could I have discovered an important insight such as the title for my book which continues to elude me?

Trusting the Creative Urge

You might think since I’m writing this blog, I have more answers. Sorry, wrong. I’m getting better at the questions and this one is especially juicy.

There’s a fundamental belief I hold with a reverence that nears worship. I trust the creative urge. Plain and simple. Where it calls me, I want to go. Put another way, when creativity begins to shrink, it is time to change my approach.

As I go forward, I’ll let you know what happens. When I return to the more critical view, seeking the big picture and a title for my memoir, I’ll write another blog. I enjoy these questions, that’s the truth.

But how is it for you? Do you also alternate between letting it happen and seeking to guide your creative projects? How do you navigate that? I’d love to hear from you and I’m sure other readers would too. Please comment below.

Debbie Bateman's avatar

By Debbie Bateman

Debbie Bateman is a graduate of The Writer’s Studio at Simon Fraser University. Her short stories and personal essays have been published in anthologies and literary magazines. She works as an editor for Thompson Rivers University and was formerly the fiction interviews editor for The Artisanal Writer. Her collection of linked short stories about peri-menopausal women, "Your Body Was Made for This," was published by Ronsdale Press. A proud mother of three sons, Debbie lives in Quw’utsun (Cowichan) on Vancouver Island with her husband and soulmate. She is a Buddhist of Scottish/Irish descent and a quiet rebel.

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