Creativity, control and the messy space between…
Hi folks!
Firstly … welcome to the new home of my creative offerings. I’m now sending my newsletters via Substack - a simpler platform that makes it easy to read, save, and (if you like) comment or share.
Only my new writing (and new free practices) will live on Substack, but you can still find all previous blog posts over on my website.
No need to do anything - if you’re receiving this, you’re already subscribed. I’m so glad you’re here.
Honestly, the transition to this new platform has come from some soul searching about what the purpose of this newsletter is.
Am I building an audience to sell products to? - No.
Am I wanting to share important teachings with as many people as possible? - Maybe… ?
Are these spaces essentially a container for my musings, my creative voice, to bring together the pieces of knowledge I have gathered up and composted within my own experience and practice. For that voice to be held and heard and maybe (hopefully) for that to land with others in a way that provides greater insight? - Yeah, I think so…
The temptation of simplicity and ease
And so, I’ve been thinking deeply about what it means to create and realising the things that are really important. It starts with being honest about something.
Like so many people juggling work, study, parenting and creative life, I’ve been tempted by ways to make things easier, to be able to do it all. It started by using generative AI (ChatGPT) to help with writing content - mainly more procedural emails, getting chaotic thoughts in more of an order, helping me prioritise. It felt exciting, efficient and actually quite insightful. It provided reflections and edited grammar and generated hashtags. But it’s a slippery slope…
Chat was now asking… “would you like me to write that post for you?” In 2 seconds an afternoon’s worth of content written, able to portray my ideas in ways that I hadn’t expected. “If I just edit it so it’s more my voice it’s still my idea right?”
But something felt off. A slight catch of my chest when I re read a published post and know that that sentence wasn’t ME. A slightly nauseous feeling in my guts that I wasn’t being authentic. My integrity was being worn away under this shiny new tool.
The more I engaged with social media (especially Instagram) the more I noticed a similar tone to peoples’ posts. A reflection of - “aah.. you too. You’ve fallen for the heady scent of efficiency and the space to catch your breath amidst all the responsibilities you’ve placed upon yourself.” There was something too clean and streamlined. Too easy but also a feeling of emptiness. And when something feels off it is a reminder to turn inwards and explore it.
The embodied pause
Often when something just feels off and I can’t fully explain it, it helps me to explore it through concepts and ideas. I think this is why I (and I believe humans more generally) have related so well to nature metaphors, to stories, to myths and archetypes and to concepts of qualities or energies.
In Tantrik philosophy (and Yoga more widely) we use the concepts of Shakti and Shiva to explain different universal qualities in nature and within us (as part of nature). Often they are described as the divine feminine and divine masculine energies but I believe that we are better understanding them beyond gender binaries (I think more on that in another newsletter).
Shakti is the wild, energetic current that moves within all life. Creativity, emotion, expression. It is the energy that births ideas and flows with change.
Shiva is the stillness that holds it. Grounding, discipline, focus and awareness. It is the conscious presence that makes space for Shakti to move.
We need both. Too much flow without containment can become chaotic. Too much structure without flow can become rigid. Between the two we find balance and this is a constant dance - portrayed in Yogic mythology by a literal dance between the gods and goddesses.
For me, using tools like AI is encoded with Shiva energy. It can provide structure and focus for the chaos of my messy creative mind. But rely on it too much and the Shakti creativity is stifled. It feels inauthentic, but more… in my body it feels like something is being caged. Iron bars set up in a cube inside my solar plexus. The wild animal pacing.
Coming back to aliveness
Understanding these embodied concepts really helps me to move forward. If I just understand in a cognitive, analytical way. “This feels wrong because I’m kind of cheating” - it feels judgy somehow. When I feel it in my body I understand, “oh I need this space to write as a way of authentically expressing myself and my ideas even if it’s messy”.
I still use AI - but not for my voice. I might use it like scaffolding, to organise ideas, sketch out structure and create space. But the words, that’s me. Imperfect, messy and often meandering. This language, made up of symbols and sounds that we create with our unique voices, to layer over our embodied understanding of things is so beautiful and rich. Alive with the potency of Shakti.
The role of the container
I don’t believe that we need to reject technology but we need to stay conscious of how we use it, especially as creative beings (which I believe we all are).
When Shatki energy is completely uncontrolled it can feel overwhelming and chaotic. It can be incredibly helpful to create a steady Shiva container for the creative forces to work within, to harness this energy towards something tangible.
I’d even go as far as to say that creativity doesn’t just love constraints, but that it can thrive under them.
Yes, too much control can block the flow of creativity. But it can also be dammed by the absence of it. If you have ever sat in front of a blank journal page, canvas, word document, open silence … you may know this feeling of wanting to create but feeling nothing move.
Sometimes, we need a spark, a prompt, a container, a colour, a key, a theme, a structure, a question. A direction, a compass point, to guide the current. Then how you get there is your own unique flow.
Creativity has always been a practice of connection - to ourselves, to others and to something deeper.
And so this space, this newsletter, this community… is not just a container for the delivery of teachings and practices, of research and reflections, of tips and resources. It’s a container to hold ideas that have been turned over like stones tumbling through the river bed of my own body-mind, and handed over to you to absorb and explore through your own lens and through your own practices.
I am not here to be perfect, just present, curious and real. Here’s to the dance between order and chaos. I’m so glad you are here for it!