Flow and ebb
Turns out doing the thing vs avoiding the thing actually feels better
Hello you,
A big warm hello and thank you to you for being here.
I wonder, how does being in flow feel to you?
For me, it feels like having space to stretch out into, time to daydream, resources to share and charge in my energy battery.
Also, it feels a bit like Belle or Maria Von Trapp whirling around, arms out-stretched, on a mountainside whilst the sun shines.
I’ve been enjoying flow for the last few weeks now.
One day I felt so euphoric to have energy and ideas that I actually danced around the garden at 7am with my rainbow ribbon.
“Finally!” I thought. “I’m back!”
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that feeling in flow almost perfectly lines up with my experiment to not drink for 100 days. (I’m on 70-something).
Or that I have been taking big action steps to finish the novel I’ve been grappling with for years.
“Most of the artist’s suffering comes from avoiding the art.”
When I heard this recently (from Amie McNee obvs), it made complete sense.
Now that I’ve stopped postponing, now that I’ve not left that book ‘stuck’, I’m feeling the freedom of flow.
Yes, all the fears and doubts about it are still there. (What if it’s not fixable? What if that person reads it? Do I really want to put my name to this?)
But taking forward action instead of leaning away in fear does, in fact, feel so much better.
Doing the scary thing is actually loads better than avoiding the scary thing. Woah.
And I’m so excited! Because soon I’ll be allowed to start a new big project. (Turns out I’d unconsciously set myself a rule that I couldn’t do anything else until this was done. Thanks, brain.)
Oooh how I love the flow. *Dances* This is great!
At this point I’d like to say a big thank you to Becky Handley Becky reminded me of something I’d conveniently forgotten.
This flow state is temporary. It won’t last forever.
The pendulum of ebb and flow will swing the other way at some point. That’s how it works.
Becky has recently written about how they are using a period of flow to proactively set things up for the next ebb. I love this act of self-compassion and am really appreciative of this invitation.
How can I avoid the temptation to phoenix-burn during flow and do ALL THE THINGS?
What softness and care can I prepare for myself for the future so that I don’t end up sobbing in the foetal position like last time?
And if I do end up sobbing in the foetal position, how will I meet myself with kindness and not chastising words?
One thing I will try to remember is that avoiding my art contributes to the pain.
Touching base with my creativity, in whatever tiny way, is such an important part of my health, my wellbeing and how I show up in the world.
It is not me being self-indulgent or wasting time.
My creativity makes me a better human! On the one hand that sounds kinda ridiculous but on the other it’s true!
How do you take care of yourself during an ebb? Or is there something you could do for yourself in advance of an ebb? Please do let me know in the comments if you’re happy to share.
I’m not a scientist and I don’t have any concrete proof, but I think there’s a good chance that action comes before flows and not the other way around.
Wishing you a flowy week.
Janelle x
P.S This is a sort of sister piece to my ‘ebb’ letter earlier this year.
Accepting ebb and flow
Hello you, Just to say, thanks so much for reading and being here. On Wednesday I had a big wobble. It had been brewing. Wrapped in my crumpled sheets, splayed out in bed in the middle of the afternoon I recorded a voice note to myself (to try and get my honest feelings out) which turned into a sob fest.
I can feel the buzz of your flow, Janelle and I love your birthday dancing pics.
“What if that person reads it?” This line really resonated. I have moments of panic when I worry about this when I’ve published something, and then I realise that I don’t really care as I’m just opening up a more honest side of myself to others. If they don’t like it, it’s their problem!
I really relate to this. I’m still figuring it out. (Maybe we always will be?) I’ve been on a quest to tune in with my energy and capacity more and while I am not hitting rock bottom the way I have in the past the ebbs still come. It’s hard not to see those as some kind of failure in “taking care of myself” but I recently heard Morgan Harper Nichols on Katherine May’s podcast and they were wondering if that is just the cycle of a neurodivergent workflow. What if we accept that when we hyperfocus and pour ourselves into a thing that a period of rest will be needed after? When I’m in an ebb I still need to create, but what I create and who it’s for changes. I think of it as keeping my creative pilot light on. The when the energy comes back I can start cooking again. 🔥