Morning Pages are an integral part
of Julia Cameron's book
The Artist's Way: A Spiritual
Path to Higher Creativity
The Artist's Sway
By Chris Dunmire
If you've read Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, then you know all about writing morning pages. In short, this early a.m. writer's exercise works well for some people as a daily structure and tool for processing/getting through/moving past whatever is occupying the mind to free it for the day's creative work. Get out the glurge; clear the mind; leave all the clutter way behind.
Cameron writes:
“In order to retrieve your creativity, you need to find it. I ask you to do this by an apparently pointless process I call the morning pages. You will do the pages daily through all the weeks of the course and, I hope, much longer. I have been doing them for a decade now. I have students who have worked with them nearly that long and who would no more abandon them than breathing.”
I appreciate Cameron's philosophy behind doing morning pages and know they really do work wonders for some people and their creative process, so much that they won't begin their day without them. Others, well, not so much. In particular, not for me. My non-linear, creative nature is resistant and rebellious at the thought of heaping on more work so early in the day. (I also don't do Goldberg's timed writings or other exercises in books.)
Deborah Atherton makes a valid point in her Intuitive Edge blog about Why Morning Pages Aren't for Everyone. Simply put: Not all writers are morning people. I'll add: not all writers respond well to linear structures. So to ask them to write three long-hand pages of gluck or gack (or pretty prose) first thing in the morning every day is a long shot.
And it's not just Cameron creating such structures. One writing coach I know urges his clients to make a practice of carving out x number of first-thing-in-the-morning hours y times a week for z amount of creative output. I know from experience that expectations like this have the built-in potential for setting people up for failure — of not faithfully following through or following the directives of the author to a "t". (Creatives struggling with perfectionism are particularly vulnerable.) In putting too much emphasis on following others, lost is the most important thing of all: learning how to pay attention to our own intuitive cues.*
It's important to recognize that one-size-does-not fit-all when it comes to any creativity exercise, tool, or coaching philosophy. Be mindful of fads and celebrity, things which come and go and might not mean a lick to you personally. What works for some people in the creativity department may not be as effective (or work at all) for you. And, if like an ill-fitting pair of shoes you force them on anyway, you'll be uncomfortable walking the line and will kick them off as soon as no one's looking. (Blisters make poor creative conduits.)
Instead, why not discover through your own process what works well for you and use that, even if it's your own innovative twist or adaptation on what's already out there. Don't be afraid to follow your own path, especially in the face of so many popular books and bandwagon options. We're all so richly different and complexly diversified creatures...having a unique way of accomplishing our work that is both satisfying and fulfilling to us is the ultimate, isn't it?
* That being said, what attracts me most to the Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching™ model (and why I practice it) is the allowance and nurturing of the non-linear creative nature evident in so many artists. Small questions are asked to elicit the client's own intuitive wisdom about what works and what's next in their own process. The cycles of creative ebb and flow are honored and no-thing is mandated or forced. A variety of innovative, playful, contemplative, and compassionate tools are available to try, work with, or adapt into a personalized program according to an individuals needs, goals, and desires. Or not. Overall, openness, flexibility, and forgiveness are inspiringly healthy to this type of creative exploration and expression. •
© 2010 Chris Dunmire www.chrisdunmire.com. All rights reserved. |
