This is the last in a series of articles exploring creativity; the first article on creativity is here.
Investment and exploration
When I decided to take a sabbatical with my 3 year old son and do some writing, one of the things I was looking forward to was exploring my right brain. I made goals and developed new habits. I consciously slowed down and attempted to relieve the pressure to perform. I well knew that a linear path was not going to get me there, yet my approach seemed to naturally and frequently return to a linear methodology without me thinking about it. For years my writing consisted principally of business cases and proposals, and developing projected steps and time lines and driving towards goals. I wondered what portion of my experience would prove useful in writing fiction.
I also knew there were no overnight successes in writing. I could easily imagine that it took years to find the rhythm and verse, and develop a comfortable and roomy voice. What I didn’t appreciate until I got into it for a few months is that those style and practical aspects of the learning curve are only a part of the reason it takes years to become a good writer. Because the other thing, the elephant in the room, is to habituate the ability to compose, or consciously urge the brain to emerge so to speak, and then capture those ideas as they surfaced. And the whole process is itself a habit, requiring another kind of rhythm in order to meet some kind of efficiency. I imagine good writers have a whole library of snippets of ideas. I now believe that building that mind habit and perhaps most of all that library is a significant reason for the years of development in becoming a writer.
When I suspended conscious direction, and stopped steering, and allowed my thoughts to roam freely, I eventually discovered I was really writing 4 books. There’s still a certain sense of watching myself do this, which I’m told is a fairly common occurrence.
The less I control the effort, the more ideas I have. Often I’m surprised to discover I’ve been writing for 18 or 20 hours, and the only reason I notice is that I’ve become incredibly hungry. It has become necessary to build a support group both for ideas and structure. I’m sure each individual has their own writing style including daily rhythms and particularly creative time periods. I’ve been lucky so far; if I can sit down, I’m going to write.
Creativity and collaboration
Lastly, I believe I’ve taken some useful life lessons away from my creative writing. Although I have never been uncomfortable alone, I’ve found I miss the collaborative and conflicting atmosphere of a team even more than I thought I would; the collegian spirit of working honorably and well together and accomplishing strenuous goals or navigating nebulous waters. I believe more than ever that anyone can train their mind to think creatively. But it does take practice. I also have a more intimate understanding of how my discipline and morale intersects with colleagues and milieu. I had underestimated the extent to which feedback from colleagues nurtured and sustained and reinforced my efforts. And finally, and most gratefully, I am absolutely enervated by spending time with my son. I shall cherish our many moments together all the days of my life. But that’s another story.
Other articles in the creativity series
Practical Implications of the Biology of Creativity
7 Ways to Stifle Creativity and Innovation





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