Two Kinds of Rejuvenation for the Creative Life

What would rejuvenate your creative self right now? Maybe not what you—or others—think. I find the writing life demands two kinds of creative energy: the inward action of filling the well of inspiration and the outer work of manifesting a project.

Most of us are great at one, less at the other. Most of us get depleted in one area, and knowing which means we can choose a break that builds stamina quickly and effectively.

I didn’t always know this. I thought, like most of us creatives, that applying for time away at a residency or attending a writing retreat for a week would always do the trick.

But, actually, the inner and outer work of creating has very different demands. It took two decades of teaching other writers and a lot of trial and error before I saw clearly what I most need when my creative reserves are low. And it’s not what I expected.

The Artist’s Way started it all

I personally had a terrible time with the The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. I could slip into some of her suggestions for a great writing life and I failed miserably at others. I read this book when it first came out in 1992 and it became my go-to for cranking up my creative energy whenever it slid. But I didn’t yet know the different needs of the dream stuff of writing and the outer discipline of manifesting.

Dream stuff is simply the resource for book ideas and brilliant plots and those amazing character conversations that roll around in your head and settings that send you places inside. Some call this the creative well. It’s refilled by things that surprise, delight, inspire, educate, astonish you. That disturb you and make you want to speak out. That bring you perspective on your history and your presence.

Outer manifesting is the butt-in-chair part of the writing life. The outer work of creating, the practice, the sitting down and putting fingers to keyboard or pen to paper. It’s grunt work, far from the sparkle of dream work.

Knowing which you are good at, what comes easily to you, also tells you where you might get depleted fast.

For me, I love grunt work—I’m the person who gets covered with mud, out in the garden. The one who has no hesitation cleaning my dog’s butt. I am very comfortable with writing practice, and I rarely need breaks from it.

The inner work, ah, that’s another story. So many times I have let my well run dry.

Artist dates versus morning pages

Cameron was smart when she suggested not only the daily discipline of Morning Pages (three, stream of consciousness pages) and the weekly Artist Date (going someplace new for an hour to fill the well inside).

I latched on to the Morning Pages as my daily routine back in 1992. It wasn’t a far reach from what I already did with my morning journaling. Journals in my life date back to 1972 and I still have that one, embarrassing as it is. I couldn’t get along without writing each day, stuff no one will ever read but me. It’s my sanity and my processing.

I still write Morning Pages every day, over twenty years later. Although they process the inner stuff, they are essentially an outer practice.

But Artist Dates? I could never make time for them. A huge effort for me to even think of a place to go, much less separate myself from my ordinary life and do it. Because I wanted to get the most from the book, I really tried. I’d go out for errands (practical reason) and try to stop in at a new store (maybe qualifies as an Artist Date). I made a list of cool places to go. But I rarely made myself actually go. And the twist was to do it alone, just for you. With a friend, I might have done it. Not just for myself.

If I did manage a mini-break, say to visit a museum, I was always transformed by it. The juice from that hour away was a many day resource for my creativity, and I grew as an artist. So I know it worked. I just couldn’t justify it—it was what I needed and what I couldn’t do.

Which is easier for you? It’s all so individual.

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Individual needs

It takes me a long time to learn, especially when it’s about myself and my creative life. Friends suggested weeklong retreats, applying for residencies. I couldn’t see the point. Not that a week by a beautiful lake wasn’t paradise but where I live is gorgeous and I’m not starving for beauty. I duly signed up for weeklong getaways only to find myself writing less than when I was at home.

I love the outer work of writing, I love sitting down and doing it. I didn’t need to get away to find my groove. I could work just fine at home, in my regular life.

But I didn’t realize it was the other part that was dried up. So when I finally went on a physical get-away and I found myself not wanting to write but rather just sleep and read and eat, it became a cool sign of where I was actually depleted.

Then I found myself with family, visiting an art museum in Philly one weekend. I think it was a Turner exhibit, which was wonderful, but it wasn’t the painting that transformed me. It was the view into art, into the world beyond my eyes. New things to see. It could’ve happened at a concert, a street market, a beach. I needed the new perspectives I couldn’t get in my small but beautiful world at home.

Not just quiet

With this past year of two books published between October 2023 and April 2024, I had lots of stamina initially for the outer work. I kept writing these Substacks, got booked on over 30 podcasts, learned how to share my books online and otherwise. Although, I had a steep learning curve, which you can read about in past newsletters from this year, I enjoyed my groove, even as an introvert.

But what I didn’t notice was that inner well starting to run dry. Introverts, or at least me as an introvert, need an equal amount of well-filling time (not just quiet, inward time but inspiration rejuvenation). But I loved meeting readers. I found happiness and uplift in the outreach as more of them told me they loved the novels. A gift to an author, and not always mine with every book I’ve published.

So, I wondered, do I need something other than quiet, rest, inward time? Is it possible those Artist Dates were right all along?

What I saw in my students

Students who came to my weeklong retreats all those years ago were often saturated with inspiration but too exhausted to manifest it.

For them, the retreat was a means of getting away from a life that is running the creative person ragged.

For them, I proposed a lot of alone time in their cottage rather than more input or lessons or structure. They just needed to use what they were receiving. They just needed to manifest the juicy stuff. That would be an incredible retreat. These were the writers who got independent study instead of classroom times.

Students who came with plenty of writing but a certain tension in their faces, with great ability to crank out pages while not seeing the writing was dulled down from repetition, perhaps, needed something different from the retreat. They were like flowers that needed to sit in water for a while and get rejuvenated by new ideas, inspiration, community, other writers. We read, discussed, shared, and played all kinds of fun inspiration games.

Taking a break is so needed by all of us, and summer is the time. But the kind of break you need may differ from what you think. Try the exercise this week to test this out.

Your Weekly Writing Exercise

How do you tell what part of your writing life most needs a break this summer? Think about these statements and see what’s true for you.

1. I have no trouble staying with my writing practice but my work isn’t satisfying me.

2. I’m repeating what I already know.

3. I keep revising but can’t seem to get a working manuscript.

4. Feedback is confusing—my readers aren’t engaged.

5. I can’t make time for my writing.

6. I’m exhausted by my work, family, eldercare, other demands and writing is the last thing I feel like doing.

7. I keep missing deadlines for my book.

8. I have a thousand ideas and no energy to get them on paper.

This isn’t an exact science, of course, but if you related to the first four sentences above, you may be ready for inspiration or filling the creative well again. You don’t have trouble writing, but you need to get out more! Find inspiration in some of the ideas below.

If you related more to the last four sentences, you could sure use a get-away—soon! A writing retreat, residency, or even an hour at a coffee shop might really help.

Here are some ideas to refill the creative well (from my students and me).

1. Read something by somebody else (poetry is my go to).

2. Try a prompt (What If? by Pamela Painter and Ann Bernard is a winner).

3. Move 25 things in your living space.

4. Get outside for some exercise. Get to a beach, a trail, a forest, a park. Take an hour walk or run or do some yoga.

5. Re-awaken your eye to beauty. Read art books at the library. Go to a museum. Spend an hour at a bookstore and leaf through three magazines you’ve never heard of.

6. Move your writing space. Take your writing to a coffee shop, library, outdoor cafe, park, or friend’s house. Write about what you see right in front of you. Record an overheard conversation for dialogue ideas.

7. Immerse yourself in another culture for an afternoon. A street market, a restaurant, a cultural center, a religious gathering, a concert in a park. Make sure it’s new to you.

Here are some ideas to get time and energy to write.

1. Get away—seriously! Take a week alone by yourself at a writing retreat. Here’s a list from The Write Life to entice you.

2. Create an artificial deadline with rewards that matter to you. If it’s motivating, ask a friend to help keep you accountable. Make it someone you need to show up for, if you have trouble showing up for yourself.

3. Schedule five, one-hour “disappearances” where you don’t have to tell anyone where you’re going. Label them legit—”writing class” or “meet with trainer” or “meet with boss” in case someone else sees your calendar and tries to discount the break time.

4. Overwhelm is easy if you’re depleted. Take smaller bites of your writing time. Make a list of 25 very small steps that would help you feel like you’re touching in with your writing. Rather than “write the scene,” try “brainstorm a character’s clothes.” Make it fun.

5. Read this article about how professional writers navigate creative slumps from Medium.

What might you try? What kind of break do you most need?