I got a direct message this week that was such a good question–one I want to ask all my creative friends–I thought it would make a great post, if not just for the simple fact that I’d love a list of answers to this question all in one place so I can come back and be reminded.

Dear Kelle,
What do you do when you are in a creative funk?
Sincerely, Burnt Out in Brooklyn (I admit I added the signature and assigned a city because I wanted to Dear Abby this up good)

Dear Burnt Out in Brooklyn,

This, my friend, is one of the great questions for mankind, nestled right next to “Is there a God?” and “What is the soul?” and “What goes on in the mind of Kanye West?” If you search Amazon for books that have to do with creative blocks, 88 pages of resources pull up including–I’m happy to report–a book with a rather forthright title on page 6, Book of Rhymes: A Laxative for Creative Constipation. The truth is, no matter what our creative work is–writing, making music, decorating our homes, building birdhouses or creatively mixing ingredients to make beautiful spreads of food–we all suffer from lack of inspiration and feeling stuck from time to time.

What do I do to get out of my creative funks?

Be the Plumber – Just like when your sink is blocked, when my creative output is blocked, it’s often because something is blocking it, and the blockage needs to be addressed. Blockages include bad habits, irresponsibility, procrastination, etc. Questions I frequently ask myself when I’m in a creative funk: Are you spending too much time on your phone? Are you avoiding something? Is there a not-so-fun task you haven’t finished that you need to get done to free up space for creative thinking? Are you masking pain/productivity/attention to emotions with fillers? (shopping, going out, social media, drinking, etc.) When I remove a blockage, it’s amazing how quickly the flow of creativity is restored.

Change the Flow – Sometimes, when I’m waiting for creative inspiration to come, I’m only looking at one faucet for it to flow out of. Maybe it’s not so much that I’m creatively blocked but that I need to go turn some other faucets on and give the one I always rely on a rest. In other words, if I’m not feeling inspired to write, there are so many other ways to be creative, and I want to be using all my creative outlets–drawing, painting, taking photos, dancing, decorating my home, crafting, etc. One of my favorite silly ways to reset my creativity is sitting in the driveway with my kids and drawing with sidewalk chalk. It’s like creative therapy–there’s so much freedom in the act, I get to be with my kids, the sun is shining, and there are so many colors to choose from.

Clean the House –  I’ve never been one of those people who need to have everything clean before I attempt a creative project, so “learning to let things be messy” is never a problem for me. It’s the contrary that sometimes works for me–taking time to get rid of things, clean, organize, etc. to trigger my brain to follow suit. It’s like getting the guest room ready for your favorite guest. Creativity! I know you’re coming! I got the house clean and put some flowers out! I’m ready for you!

Make Bad Art – Sometimes my creative funks are more about output than input. If I’m not satisfied by what I’m creating, I can easily blame it on the fact that I’m not feeling inspired or that I’m in a creative funk when really, creating subpar work is a natural part of the creative process. The key is to KEEP CREATING. Accept that making things you’re not completely satisfied with is the dry valley you have to cross to get to the lush meadow on the other side. As Journey sang, “Don’t stop believin’. Hold on to that feeling.”

Tread the Waters of “Online Inspiration” with Great Caution – We all know that Pinterest and blogs and creative websites are all overflowing with ideas and inspiration to get our creative juices flowing, but I have to be very careful when I turn to the Internet to inspire me. I get distracted easily, and often one online thing leads to another online thing, and it all becomes part of the Resistance, as Steven Pressfield calls it–the universal force that acts against creativity. I get sucked in to looking at everybody else’s work instead of creating my own, or worse–I hit click bait that leads me to shopping for another romper or researching the details of Prince Harry and Megan Markle’s wedding. A better source of creative inspiration for me are books and magazines–resources that have proven to inspire me in the past. I love Click magazine for photography inspiration, books from my favorite authors for writing inspiration, home decor magazines, drawing books, Darling magazine, Uppercase magazine, and a few of my creative Bibles I always return to–The War of Art (easy read), Writing Down the Bones and If You Want to Write.

Step Outside of the Box – A big component of creativity is newness–a fresh idea, a different approach, a way of doing something in a way that’s never been done before. If those fresh ideas aren’t coming naturally to me, I shake things up in other areas of my life to mimic the creative inspiration I’m not feeling. Rearrange a room, put together a crazy outfit, try a new hairstyle, wear a bold lipstick color, visit a new restaurant and order the craziest thing on the menu. It’s amazing how one simple action with a free, fearless attitude gradually inspires other actions until soon, fearlessness and freedom has seeped back into my work.

Do Things You Love – This is probably the most powerful motivation in getting me unstuck. Stop trying to summon creativity and instead just return to the things you love. Creativity is naturally embedded in us; it moves within our cells. The best way to awaken dormant creativity is to do things that naturally make us come alive. What does that look like for me? Blasting my favorite music in my kitchen and dancing with my kids, lighting candles and burning sandalwood incense in my bedroom, planning trips in journals with lists and ideas and places I want to visit, baking pies and spending far too long braiding dough so the crust looks pretty, going on impromptu adventures and taking photos of my kids, printing favorite photos and displaying them in frames, taping motivating quotes to my refrigerator, digging through cookbooks to find a new meal to make over the weekend, saying “yes” when my kids ask me to go swimming, going for moon walks, pairing overalls with heels.

So tell me, what do YOU do to get out of a creative funk?

 

Returning from a five-day getaway from California late Monday night, I was reminded of one of the great truths of going away when you are a mom: Re-entry spares no mercy.

Perhaps it was Brett’s text that popped up on my phone at midnight, when the plane was nearing the ground: “Make sure you leave Latte locked in the laundry room, she’s got the shits.” 

Or maybe it was the empty fridge I returned to that I somehow had to magically turn into three lunches the next morning (refried beans on a stale tortilla, anyone? No?). 

Perhaps it was the stack of papers Lainey shoved into my hand before I even had a chance to say “Missed you, Good morning” yesterday–“Here mom, sign these. Like, I have to decide what middle school class I want to take today.”

I was doing really great, fueled by the deep breath of alone time I had just experienced, as I juggled all the things and even managed to schedule a workout after I dropped the kids off. Lunches? Check. Backpacks? Check. One last french braid out of this mess before we actually have to wash it? Check. I was almost out the door when my dad called.

“Dash has no sweet potato,” he calmly informed as if this was a completely normal greeting.

“What?”

“Dash has no sweet potato, and all the other kids do. They’re growing roots. He never brought one in.”

I laid one on the counter for him before I left, but with the transfer of the responsibility baton, the potato never made it in.

Let’s just say the potato was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Two steps out the door with three ready-for-school kids, I turned back inside to fetch a fecking potato which I’m assuming now, by the ghost town that was my fridge yesterday morning, was rationed between family members over the weekend in a last attempt to avoid starvation.

I frantically went about looking for a sweet potato, flinging open refrigerator drawers (one fell out in the process), shoving random bottles of weird condiment surprises to the side and making as much noise as possible.

“BRETT!” I yelled agitated, because agitated yelling is my reaction of choice to these scenarios. “WHERE’S THE SWEET POTATO?”

No answer. So I ransacked my kitchen some more and yelled louder, escalating to a perfect reenactment of Will Ferrel’s “Mom! Meatloaf!”  scene in Wedding Crashers.

I will spare you the rest of the story, but I need you to know that after the children all melted down, Latte reminded us that she too was a key player in the re-entry to reality story. Remember the text? Yeah, that.

We made it through the morning, and I as I walked up to pick up Dash from preschool a few hours later–always timed right between the things I almost got finished and the other nineteen things I still have to do–I looked up at the building that’s been our home for the past five years, since Nella started there when she was a toddler–and remembered that these last few weeks are it for us here. Soon, this little preschool will just be a place that we drive past, initiating a wave and a “There’s our old school!” from my kids and a stir of some of the most beautiful memories of my life for me.

The bulletin boards in the hallways are already decorated with end of year messages and memories, and I was told one of the teachers already began the “it’s coming to an end” tears this morning. I collected Dash’s things, held his hand as we walked out the door and cued my brain to fully feel it all these next few weeks.

This month is never easy–the projects, the events, the planning, the missing sweet potatoes and morning hustles. But, much like re-entry to motherhood after trips, I know this is all part of the adventure, and I’m all in.

The refrigerator has been refilled, the madness has recommenced. But there’s coffee this morning. And three growing kids that are the best welcome home a girl could ask for. Onward…there is more.

And now, a great big catch-up of things we’ve been enjoying around here lately–sweet little moments that cushion the challenging ones.

Afternoon dog walks, in a stroller of course because that’s how everyone does it in Naples.

Sibling love. One-sided…

And two-sided…

Beach weekends that tease of summer’s goodness…

We took donuts and coffee down to the beach early on a Saturday morning, and it was magic.

Post beach fast-melting ice cream sandwiches.

The last of the preschool years and time alone with Dash. My mom still talks about how much fun it was to have me to herself when my brother and sister were at school.

Rainy season previews.

And a family Sunday downtown.

They’re “flossing,” a dance I have yet to master (and don’t think there’s any hope).

Dash is holding a gummy alligator here. He named him Chomps. He never ate it, just carried it and eventually smashed it, hot and sticky, against the car window where there is still a mark.

And finally, afternoons in the hammock at our favorite pool.

A sno-cone in one hand, a pickle in the other. So Nella.

Happy Humpday!