We all hit a wall sometimes. The Wall. An inspired idea that leads to a creative drought. A full season of projects followed by burnout. Taking the first few steps of a new adventure and then losing motivation. Sound familiar?

I often feel like hitting The Wall is a sure sign of failure, like the little buzzer that goes off when you've lost. "Game over!" It can feel like the task was to bust through The Wall and leave as much distance between it and you as you possibly can, riding off into the successful sunset leaving a pile of rubble in the dust behind you.

My therapist recently said something that made me consider how I might consider The Wall differently. 

"If your definition of success or progress is to not hit a wall, you're setting yourself up to fail every time. We're human. It's not if we have a wall, it's when."

Damn it. Why could I just figure out the secret to blasting through The Wall and make sure I got so good at avoiding, demolishing, or escaping from The Wall that I never had to feel scared, unmotivated, or unsure ever again? If The Wall was always going to be there, how in the world would I ever feel like I'm making progress or have anything to celebrate?

"What if progress meant not making The Wall disappear, but not giving up on finding ways to get creative with how you choose to face the Wall?"

My therapist is good. 

Do we want to hit The Wall? No.

Will we hit The Wall? Yes.

Do we want to feel successful and celebrate our victories? Of course.

It's often news to me, but I'm a human being. So are you. We can make choices each day about our lives AND we must learn to surrender to things outside our control. The Wall will always meet us on the road to creative satisfaction. It's always waiting for us. We're not going to stop that rendezvous from happening, but we can choose to get creative with how we meet and greet The Wall. What if we could redefine and reclaim what it means to experience a victory, breakthrough, and celebrate our hard work and play?

Ok, so we work on accepting that The Wall will show up for us many times in our lives. Progress. Now that we are standing at The Wall, our first instinct might be to blast through it, blowing the bricks to smithereens and leaving us standing like a hero who conquered all. 

But?

The Wall rarely responds to sheer blasting force. The Wall continues to stand. Here's where I get angry, rage against The Wall and convince myself I'm never getting past it. It's easy to get stuck in this rage, in this fear, in this despair. It's understandable and even vital that we let ourselves feel all these feelings we have about The Wall. But then we must try something.

if we can't blast through The Wall, what happens if we try to climb it? Dig underneath it? Find a loose brick to glimpse the other side? Can we toss a rope over the top? Stand on a ladder and peek over? Hell, if there's nothing else we can think of to do, how about finding some chalk or paint and making a mural about how it feels to be staring down this damn Wall?

Motivating ourselves to keep looking for ways to face The Wall doesn't guarantee "success" or promise that we won't still feel frustrated. But giving ourselves the permission to make different choices again and again about how we deal with what's in front of us does mean that no matter what happens, we are actively participating in our own creative growth and education. Even if climbing The Wall doesn't work, it will provide us with new information; about The Wall and about ourselves. And more self knowledge is part of this whole crazy creative experiment called life. 

If you're struggling with a personal or creative Wall right now, I hear you. I am struggling, too. Feel what you feel and don't feel bad about admitting that it is hard as hell sometimes to keep going.  And realize that you aren't alone and that your imagination and creativity are two beautiful gifts that can allow you to imagine an outcome where you allow yourself to make a different choice about how to move forward and ultimately learn what you are made of. 

This creative life isn't a sprint. It's a marathon. Life is short. But we have plenty of time to be patient with ourselves as we explore the choices we do have. 

I hope everyone is enjoying a holiday season that's hopefully a little simpler and a little slower. It can be hard to slow down but I'm doing my best to put a few creative projects on the  back burner for the next week or so; I am trusting that they will keep bubbling away, happy to wait for me while I catch up on sleep, laundry, and generally being a human after a full fall of a new day job, performing, and teaching.  I'm so excited about the New Year and all the things I want to make, but right now? I need to take care of my human self.  Without her, my creative self doesn't exist. 

Go to bed 30 minutes earlier tonite. 

Pick up a book that is begging to be read.

Take a hot bath.

Wash and fold your laundry.

Lay on your couch and stare at the ceiling for awhile.

Cook something delicious.

Take your vitamins.

Spend time with someone who makes you feel good about the world (yup, furry friends count!)

Have a guilt free movie marathon in your pajamas.

Curl up in your very own fort of pillows and blankets and let go of the world and your worries, even  if only for five minutes. 

Print or write the following sentence and hang it on your bathroom mirror or fridge:
"I, (fill in your name) give myself permission to rest, relax, and take a step back from my creative projects over the holidays. I give myself permission to trust this will make me a lighter, more imaginative, healthier version of myself--the human and the creative."

Only when we take a time out can we return with more clarity, curiosity, passion, and purpose. No one can go 365 days a year, so let's make this season a time to say yes to sustainability. This creative path is a marathon, not a sprint. 

Wishing you a restorative holiday season my friends. I'll see you in 2019!

The next time you get really down and convince yourself that you don't have anything worth offering the world, that your creative impulses couldn't possibly compete with doing something practical, like accounting or nursing or knowing how to fix a car, try this.

Play a song, watch a movie, read a few lines of your favorite book, move to music that makes you feel like you MUST dance, look deeply into the brush strokes of a painting.

Become aware of how your heart beats.

How you feel a little less alone.

How, no matter what you're going through, you can have the tiny comfort of knowing that somewhere in history, someone felt the way you do and instead of letting it eat them up from the inside out, they chose to dig up what they may have perceived as ugly or special or completely ordinary, shake off the dirt, and throw it up into the sun, allowing us all to see that what we most try to hide might just be the best thing we can share with others. 

After you realize how much this song, movie, book, dance, or piece of art makes you feel like you might just belong in this big, messy, hard, tender, gorgeous life after all, go back to telling yourself that what you are dreaming of, making, and putting your whole life force into doesn't matter. 

Notice how you feel. 

The shift won't happen all at once, but almost nothing ever does.

Keep listening, watching, reading, moving and admiring and allow your heart to make room for and consider the idea that, just as your favorite humans and creative souls make the world more beautiful bit by bit, you just might just be part of that, too. ​