I’ve been writing a book now for a couple of years. It’s a work in progress and sometimes I feel it will never end. I love writing it though, and that’s all that matters for now. It will get finished in its own beautiful time and I’m cool with whenever that may be.

Sometimes when I mention to somebody that I’m in a book-writing phase, they get a concerned look on their face and tell me how hard it is to publish a book. Maybe. Probably. But where I’m at right now with my creative process, publishing is the farthest from my mind. I’ll face that dragon when it’s time, and honestly I’ve always had a soft spot for dragons anyway.

Creativity shouldn’t be strangled by demands.

Writing without expectation is, to me, a spiritual practice.

The creative process is about bringing something to life.

If a person chooses to be a parent, they often feel the drive so strongly that no other option will do. It’s the same with writing a book. There’s an entity inside of you- a story, an energy- that needs to be brought to life, and not allowing it is more painful than the writing, the doing it, the letting it flow. A person can ignore the creative drive for years and finally its force will become so loud, pervasive, and demanding, procrastinating or suppressing is no longer physically possible. This book has to happen or it will devour you.

That’s been my experience anyways.

But focusing on the outcome of that drive, such as–this thing had better be a best-seller–makes as much sense as demanding a newborn to be a Nobel laureate, or Pulitzer Prize winner. If that’s what a person is focused on, they probably shouldn’t be a parent. Just like if a person is writing while strangled by expectation, they probably shouldn’t be a writer either.

The Zen of it.

Letting go of the outcome allows the fun to come through. Detaching from the demanding energy of perfection equals freedom of expression for creation’s sake. This book I happen to be writing, my creative process, is fragile. I can nurture its growth or I can squeeze the life out of it with the constriction of my own demands and fears. My choice.

Is there something waiting inside of you? Hoping to be written, or danced, or painted, or orchestrated into life? I hope you can listen with an open heart and a mind free from demands. Trust and honor your process. Like any child, it will grow into its own magnificence, its own identity. We’re just here to guide, nourish, and support.  And if that kid grows to be a Nobel laureate, or a Pulitzer Prize winner…well, that’s just the sweet icing.

Much Love,

Kristy