We got away last week.  It was a wonderful, welcome campout although slightly different than our typical active vacations.   Due to my foot injury, hiking was not an option.  Afraid to stop moving I wondered, "What will it be like to camp for fours days with no hiking?"  Pre-departure I anticipated boredom, frustration and weight-gain and had a really bad attitude.  Knowing this was our only opportunity to recharge, I decided to pack as many journaling supplies as I could and optimistically envisioned hours of time to play. 

I packed a quilted, fabric journal that I made during an Artfest retreat.  The smaller size fit nicely in my tackle box along with the rest of my journaling kit.  I hadn't used this journal for more than 10 years.  When I made it my creative life was focused on art.   Due to a car accident I hadn't played my viola for nearly 3 years.  Depressed, suffering and living in a musical void I longed for happier times.  In the first dozen pages of my journal  I sketched dreams of health and happiness and musical goals.  And then I put it away for a decade.   A funny thing happened during that wait.  I stumbled across my journal last year, opened it and was astonished to see my dreams on paper.  As I turned each page I was more and more amazed--my dreams had all come true! 

It seems like this is a magic journal.  But I think every journal is magical.  Fill one with your dreams and watch them come true.  Work through your challenges.  Sketch your hopes.  Doodle your fantasies.  Then watch them come to life.  Like Harold and the Purple Crayon, you may be surprised and delighted by what comes out of your pen!

I just read What it Is by Lynda Barry and fell in love.  Read this book!  It is a fascinating creative journey; a "how to write" manual in journal form.  She journals her artistic journey beginning with childhood.  We see the dreaming, the questions the self-doubt and eventual confidence played out in her journal.  We see her become an artist.  During our trip I practiced one of her ideas, "keep your pen moving."  I sat under a tree to draw.  I drew all afternoon.  I refrained from judging my pages; I just drew.   It felt good.  I experimented with new styles and techniques and had a ball.  Barry talks about children's art, "when kids draw they make sound effects or start talking out a story that seems to be happening live."  The adult version of this is doodling.  "Doodles can be called mindless drawing.  It's one of the last places drawing still exists in a person who gave up on art long ago.  A place where one line can still follow another without plan." 

It turned out to be one of our better camping trips.  My take away from this vacation was I didn't have to be in constant motion.  It was enough for my pen to be in motion.  The last morning of our trip I remarked to my husband, "I've been so content and placid on this trip.   I think it's because of all the journaling."  His reply?  "Don't stop."

Do you journal?  If so, share your thoughts.  If not, head over to Creative Playground to find out more.

I've been making notes for this topic for quite some time.  For several weeks now I've come across objects that meant a lot to me.  At least, they used to mean a lot to me.  I began to wonder why I was hanging on so tightly--even to broken mementos.  My original concept was "letting go" which implies the release of non-essential holding/then relief.    Last week I recognized a twist which alters the exercise and affects the results.  The first scenario seems slightly negative.  Why not a creative approach?  How about making room or creating space to achieve a fruitful outcome?  

The end of school is an easy time for a test.  Changes are built into our schedules in the form of fewer obligations and longer, warmer days.  Last year at this time I first considered ending my youth orchestra.  Consuming much of my time for the past six years, the group was straining my resources.  Membership and funding were down significantly last season.  I asked myself a lot of serious questions but the crucial one was, "what would my life look like without it?"  After deciding to suspend operations until January, another opportunity came out of the blue.  It didn't take long to realize that working for someone else teaching elementary orchestra was more rewarding.  I closed one door; another one opened.

There are physical ways to create space.  Spring cleaning is a time-honored method for freshening a stagnant home.  The change from winter to summer means it's time to put away the bulky boots and sweaters and haul out lightweight shorts and sandals.  A new hairstyle or color might also make you feel lighter than air.  There are also emotional ways to create space.  The main one is….

Rest.  Slowing down is a great method--if, you can do it.  That's a big "if" for me.  Orchestras, classes, commitments and students had wrapped.  I had an opportunity to fine tune next season's workload and consider changes.  This was my time to take a closer look at my choices.  I should have had the time--instead I filled my schedule with exercise, errands, ...stuff.  I realized I was spinning my wheels just as fast but with different tasks.  In other words, I'd been running away from my breathing room and wasting precious time. 

Too bad I had to figure this out the hard way.  Instead of simply resting my body took over.  Colds, back pain, foot pain--all literally knock you off your feet making sure you slow down.  Apparently I really needed space because last week I injured my foot on a run.   After the initial frustration and considerable pain I wondered if this was just what I needed.  Fight it or accept?  Continue to clutter my head or be alone with my thoughts?  Now off my feet for a week and a half and counting there's time to soak in Epsom Salts and journal and think.   I created space and now I have the space to create.

The schedule is tough this week.  Late night rehearsals don't play well with early morning classes.  Usually my gigs fit together like a puzzle.  This  week there's a missing piece--sleep.  For years I've  arranged my schedule around afternoon private lessons and nighttime rehearsals.  That gave me the mornings for the usual--housework, errands, exercise, etc.   And one other thing that really keeps me going--my journal. 

Yep.  I started the habit more than 10 years ago.  Inspired by Julia Cameron's self-help book for creating, The Artist's Way I began to journal.  Instead of journaling she  calls it "morning pages" and it's a basic tool she recommends to help unlock your creativity.  As soon as I wake up I grab my caffeine of choice and a spiral notebook  and I write 3 pages worth of stream of consciousness scribbles.    Like every habit it was hard to get started; yet once I got going I've never wanted to stop. 

How do they work? Simply put, morning pages silence the Inner Critic.  That nasty voice inside that judges.  Holds us back.  Stunts our growth.  Morning pages allow the garbage to spill onto a page instead of festering in our thoughts.  They've given me so much courage and strength  that I almost forgot what they mean to me.  This fall I learned how much I really need them.

When the before-school class started in August the alarm clock rattled my system.  I gave up morning pages for racing through the shower and running out the door.  Always exhausted and drained, I   remember the fall semester like looking through a dense fog.  So many changes--losing my mother,  closing the doors on my six-year-old youth orchestra, gaining a completely new kind of job.  I tried to fit in my journaling on the weekends or when I got back home from school but it didn't have  the same cleansing effect.

Come January, I decided to get up 15 minutes earlier to journal before school.  It wasn't that big of a change in my schedule but the change in my psyche has been phenomenal.  Instead of hiding myself, I am reaching out.  I may be short of sleep during a philharmonic week but writing shuttles the bad stuff out of my head.  I am free to be.

The day I started this article I woke up tired, dragged myself downstairs and wrote my morning pages.  I whined and complained on paper.  And the more I whined the better I felt.  The words got more positive and the positive words doubled the creative ideas.  And like magic the fussy woman who rolled out of bed was transformed.   

How do you cope with life's ups and downs? It can be a tremendous challenge to stay on track when you feel low. Through several years of trial and error I've developed my own personal tool kit of strategies. Coping strategies come into play for me when an entire month is over-scheduled or when I'm hurting from disappointment or loss. Wouldn't it be great if we could teach our kids some tools to help deal with the tough times they'll face now and as adults?


Here is my basic set of tools:
Be Gentle
Take Care of Myself
Get Outside
Ask for Help
Be Creative

Be Gentle. This is number one on my list because it's the toughest for me to remember. When you live by the calendar and the schedule and the clock it's easy to push yourself too hard. And that's precisely why we need extra special self-care. For me this can mean anything from closing my eyes and taking deep breaths to taking the time to sit down and eat slowly. In the smallest way I try to slow my pace. In addition I focus on the voice inside my head and switch my internal soundtrack to a more forgiving channel.

Take Care of Myself.  A recent addition to my tool box is separating my "want to do" list from my "should" list. This category also includes a few details that assure life is running smoothly in spite of any outside chaos. I regularly stock up on healthy foods so I have good choices available at home, in my handbag and in the car. Often I'll make a big pot of stew that I may end up eating all week. And I make sure I have a couple of fool-proof outfits in flattering colors clean and ready to go. That way I know I'll look better than I might feel.

Get Outside.  There's nothing like taking a walk to keep me quite literally grounded. I may not always have enough time to work out or I may not even feel like exercising--but I can usually find the time to take a short walk or sit on the deck.Being outside helps show us where we fit in the world. While walking I can look down and see the tiniest beetle; then look up and see the expansive mountains--and know that all is well in the universe.

Ask for Help.  This one has also been hard for me to learn. I started small--my journal is full of little prayers asking,"may I have help with that?" What assures me is I always receive an answer. After loads of practice asking God, now I reach out to people too.

Be Creative.  Stress and loss and pain feel destructive. When I direct that negative energy towards creating I gain a positive outlet. For me, creativity can be small like placing wildflowers in a vase or bigger, like making a shrine of mementos and photos. One way I multi-task my coping strategies is to make soup--I'm creating and taking care of myself at the same time.