IN A FUNK

It happens. It's happening right now. It’s not quite the Slough of Despond, but I have been watching myself sinking, in recent days, into a mood that matches the particularly gloomy marine layer we are experiencing this June in normally sunny Southern California: low clouds, mist, patches of fog, poor visibility…

No point in denying it. Denial only makes things worse. It’s a constant struggle to keep it down, and the resulting battle fatigue just adds to the pervasive sense of discouragement. After the big initial push to get the word out about Persist, I have found myself running out of steam. The familiar, bothersome questions begin to raise their unwelcome heads: Is it really worth the effort? How many readers have I actually reached? In more basic terms, how many copies have I sold? (I was tickled, by the way, to find a copy yesterday on E-Bay! A steal at $10.95!) And then there are the deeper, more perplexing questions: Who do I really think I am? What do I think I’m doing with my life? What about that contribution that I feel I need to make, the mark I tell myself I need to leave?

When these questions rush in, they’re usually accompanied by the kind of funk that leaves me glowering under that thick marine layer of gloom. I don’t have good answers for them. Or rather, more truthfully, I have only bad ones.

So what to do? I’m guessing there are vast numbers of people like myself, who experience this sinking feeling now and then—some, surely, more frequently than I do, and some less. But knowing that I’m not alone is scant comfort when the mood begins to strike. And feeling sorry for myself is not a viable response. It helps nothing. On the contrary, it has the opposite effect. It drags me down still further. Besides, it’s undignified! I flatter myself to think that I have achieved enough self-awareness at this stage of my life to recognize it when it happens, and it’s not a pretty sight.

And I do know very well what to do about it when this mood hits. The problem is—as I like to say about my meditation practice—it’s easy and it’s hard. I have learned about the wisdom of equanimity. I know how to set about finding that state of mind where I can observe the mood happening without attaching to it. It’s a matter of finding a place of refuge where I can sit quietly for a while and bring my attention to the breath; a matter of bringing it back to the breath whenever it wanders—particularly into the bleak territory that seems to attract it at such moments; and, when the mind settles, a matter of allowing it to observe the presence of despair without attaching to it. It’s a peculiarly dark cloud, but like all clouds it will drift away in its own time.

And then, of course, there’s the matter of perspective. When I manage—and meditation is a useful way to do this—when I manage to distance myself from my self, I’m able to arrive at a longer view of this self in time and space; seen in the perspective of the centuries and of the immeasurable vastness of the surrounding universe, my self and its self-important worries will seem petty indeed. When seen like this, they recede perceptibly and soon begin to dissipate with each outgoing breath.

So, yes, I do know how it can be done. As with most things of this kind, however, the art of equanimity is a lot easier to preach than it is to practice. The practice is the hard part; it requires patience and vigilance, and constant, effortful repetition. The mind is perfectly capable of wallowing indulgently in its soothing bath of welcoming self-pity, which can come to feel so justified, as fitting as a comfortable old sweat suit. It’s frankly easier to nod off and let it be than to wake up and catch it in the act.

It’s at these moments, too, when that wonderfully serviceable mantra comes in handy: This is not me, this is not mine, this is not who I am. In this light, I recognize this “Peter Clothier, writer,” to be no more nor less than an identity I have chosen to adopt, along with the other identities I allow to define me. The trick is to remember that the mantra has the same validity in good times as it has in bad: it applies not only to the Peter who goes into a funk when he doesn’t get the return he somehow imagines his work deserves, but also to the Peter who likes to bask in the glow of his successes. That’s where the equanimity really comes in. If I want to enjoy its benefits when I’m down on myself, I have to pay it equal respect when I’m up. If “down” is no more than an illusion I indulge, the same is true for “up.”

So there it is: breathe. It’s easy—and hard. It can be annoying to be reminded, in a funk, that there is a way out. The funk itself has its own rewards. How this, for one: If I’m a failure, I have the perfect excuse not to work? The human mind has its own sneaky ways, and needs to be kept a careful eye on. Otherwise, it’s perfectly capable of seducing us with the delusions and outright lies it can so readily create.

(Oh, and let me add, having written these words: a little bit of "getting back to work" does wonders! I recommend it.)

Kaizen Muse-An Interview With Jill Badonsky

Today's entry is the second in my planned series of interviews with people who are interested in the phenomenon of creativity, and how to foster and nourish it. I discovered JILL BADONSKY online, and was intrigued by her blend of humor, whimsy, intuitive acumen, and belief in the workings of process. As a creative consultant and coach, she authors helpful books and websites, including her Kaizen Muse ("kaizen" is a Japanese word meaning "continuous improvement in small steps"), The Muse Is In and The Awe-manac: A Daily Dose of Wonder (which is also the name of her most recent publication). I thought I could learn something if I checked her out. Interesting, how we all come to a similar place from our many different directions... Here are Jill's responses to my interview questions:

PERSIST: THE BLOG: How did you get involved in creativity coaching?

JILL: I started researching creativity in the early 80s because I just seemed electrically fascinated and drawn to the creative process. I was an occupational therapist in psychiatry using creativity to help people express their needs and conflicts, find their self-esteem and develop the skills that come from being engaged in a creative process. Eventually, I applied my creativity to the corporate world which ended up in a lot of promotions and the feeling that I had sold my soul for values I did not believe in. I left the corporate world and joined an improv comedy troupe. I also wrote magazine articles and started to teach writing classes and The Artist's Way.

Then one day, I needed life coaching because I was writing a one-woman-play and was not finding the discipline to complete it. I noticed that the life coach I was seeing was blocking me. She prescribed non-linear, high pressure, left brain strategies to my right brain process that just wanted to play and be relaxed. She became the authority figure I rebelled against - a common response in the creative process. I just felt more resistant.

At that point I wondered how many creative souls were getting blocked by hiring life coaches. Around the same time, someone from one of my creativity workshops asked me to coach her and with the audacity required to be a ready-fire-aim entrepreneur I said yes. While coaching her I felt this out-of-body experience that validated that, "Holy A-ha! I'm in my bliss." and I started following it until I designed and started teaching Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching. It's been expanding and taking on a life of its own since 2004.

PTB: How long have you been at it?

JB: I would like to think my experience as an expressive therapist was the beginning of growing my creativity coaching expertise and that's been since 1980. I've been actively coaching people since 1997, wrote a book on the creative process (The Nine Modern Day Muses (and a Bodyguard): 10 Guides to Creative Inspiration) which was published in 2003 and started training coaches in 2004.

PTB: Are you an artist yourself (I use the word generically: writer, musician, actor, dancer...); and was it your experience as such that led you into this endeavor?

JB: Yes. I write poetry, articles, books, plays and captions for the watercolor illustrations I do. My second book, The Awe-manac: A Daily Dose of Wonder has over 400 of my illustrations in it. I'm also a multi-media performer and storyteller and am now working on animating my illustrations. My love for the creative process in all its forms and expressions leads me into this endeavor; but being an artist myself, I know first hand what it's like to be blocked and what it's like to flow effortlessly into the timeless bliss of this higher human sphere of being able to be a creator.

I believe we are all artists of being alive. We have a palette of thoughts to choose from daily that paints what our existence looks like and feels like.

PTB: You have an impressive number of special qualifications and degrees. To what extent are these important and necessary to your work?

JB: I think the summation of my training and experience as an occupational therapist specializing in psychology, Masters Degree graduate in Educational Media and Instructional Design, a program director, a marketing consultant, a certified instructor in Guided Imageries has all led to being able to design and teach Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching. But the most important part has been my passion and my unrelenting need to share all that I have learned and experienced.

PTB: Given those qualifications, to what extent does your work with artists involve "therapy"--for want of a better word--or personal counseling, as opposed to professional counseling?

JB: What I do is not counseling at all, it's coaching, consulting, and facilitating strengths. The people we accept for creativity coaching are coming from a predominantly healthy place; they are blocked by procrastination, typical fears, perfectionism, overwhelm, low self-confidence, self-sabotage and in some cases the mild depression that comes from feeling frustrated about not finding the time or manner with which to engage in their creativity.

In Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching we focus more on strengths than weaknesses. We trigger people's resources and rarely go back to the past except to identify patterns, origins of negative self-talk, experiences that created detours AND to summon past success experiences so that fuel can be used in the present.

PTB: What rewards do you look for from your work? Which of these mean the most to you?

JB: I don't feel like I look for rewards. I feel like I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do and the rewards arrive on their own. Hearing people say that their life has changed because they are learning how to use tools that shift them from victim to creative champion is prosperity in and of itself. Just talking about the creative process with another person is a form of bliss to me because it is such a juicy and exalted part of our existence.

PTB: What can an artist expect to gain from working with you? Are you concerned to help them with greater exposure?

JB: Kaizen-Muse Creativity Coaching gives artists the tools they need to overcome all of the creative blocks they experience and to be aware of where they are already soaring but are unable to see it.

There are ten Kaizen-Muse Tools and since 2004 we have received so many letters and emails about how these tools have returned people to their own authenticity, have helped them foil procrastination and perfectionism, dissolved overwhelm and self-sabotage and helped them discover their power and inspired genius in an often unpredictable and chaotic process.

Greater exposure comes as a result of what we do but our main concern is that they enjoy the process and use the tools in a way that feels intuitively right. Too much emphasis on exposure seems to add the pressure that blocks people. Joy in the process, play, awareness of creative dynamics, following intuition and letting go of rigid expectations about results seem to end up with a non-linear acquisition of success in more ways than was initially expected.

PTB: Do you have any thoughts about the burgeoning competition in this line of work?

JB: What other people are doing is really none of my business. Comparison in the creative process is unnecessary and can be toxic. There is enough business for all of us out there and if we are staying true to our own inspiration, it will be a beautiful balance of what the world needs. Others are moving beside me not ahead of me or instead of me. The world is a better place when people are in touch with their creative joy.

Amen to that! I too believe that the world is a better place when creative people have the freedom and the inner resources to get on with their work. Where would we be without the human imagination? We would certainly lack the technology that facilitates our work! The light bulb is more than a metaphor...

My warm thanks to Jill for generously taking me up on this. I hope you have learned as much from her as I have.

Visit http://www.kaizenmuse.com/about_us.html for more biographical information on Jill and her work as well as information on her books The Nine Modern Day Muses (and a Bodyguard): 10 Guides to Creative Inspiration for Artists, Poets, Lovers and Other Mortals Wanting to Live a Dazzling Existence and The Awe-Manac: A Dose of Daily Wonder.