I have been blogging for nine months. A portent number, I should have something major — a launch, a pivot, a huge new project, to announce, right? Well, no. When I look back over my 13 posts I see creative scattershot: seasonal vignettes, making books, doodling flowers, crafting with shells . . . There is a theme, all posts center on making pretty things and/or decorating with pretty things, but the methods are all over the place. This is accurately representative of my creative endeavors to this point and when I look ahead, I see more meandering road — disappearing behind a curve, reappearing further ahead, ending up I’m not sure where.

A little of this and a little of that does not lend itself to the mastery of a particular skill set, and it definitely does not make for a cohesive “brand”. But when I start to feel bad about this, and I sometimes do (there’s a snarky little voice that pops up in my head now and then to whine “what are you doing?), I repeat to myself the words on the card pictured above and remember: I’m choosing to do this. To not go down this path would mean trying to evade one of the most significant parts of myself— a certain path to unhappiness, and missing the joy in the journey.

Have you ever felt like there’s something you want to do, maybe even need to do, but you have doubts about how it will turn out or if it’s even worth your time (maybe from other people’s perspective)? IF it’s not something you can let go, it will either nag at your peace of mind indefinitely or you put aside the doubts and just go with it. It’s easier maybe for a single project or event than something ongoing, where the challenge is in sustaining the energy to quiet doubts and keep at it. This is what I’m wrestling with right now. I really have done a lot of what I said I wanted to do this year but I’m no more clear on exactly where I’m going with what I’m doing.

I thought I would share some of the inspirational quotes and general thoughts I return to when I need a motivational boost in the face of so much uncertainty — just in case you sometimes need that too.

I made a promise to myself that as my mothering job became less time-intensive I would, for once, put my strong creative drive in the front seat and let it lead. I may zig zag around for a while, but I’m confident a coherent pattern will emerge. Or if not a recognizable pattern, at least a pleasant abstraction which could be titled “A Full Life.” The point is to stay true to the promise.

This blog is a manifestation of that commitment. It’s a way to hold myself accountable for actually doing the work. It’s visual proof that I’m getting something done. And maybe most significantly— writing, ostensibly to other people, about what I’m doing helps me explain it to myself. I know that I have yet to develop an artistic “voice” (my own distinctive style). Writing about my work forces me to reflect on it; I can then take that insight (ideally) into my next project and grow as an artist. (Also, as it turns out, I enjoy writing the blog and making graphics in Canva.)

Time management gurus say that the best way to get something done is to schedule time for it on your calendar. I know to truly honor my commitment to creativity I have to give it time. So I’ve been marking off blocks of time in my planner: time for doing general tasks and chores, time for projects around the house and yard, time for art, time for “marketing”(baby steps) art. This has actually worked for me. Scheduling time for an activity is more effective than planning on getting to it “whenever you have time.” It’s a way to prioritize something that always seems to fall to the bottom of the “To Do” list. The pandemic has made it easier to find time (silver linings) and I’m now in the habit of creating almost daily and consistently sharing my work online.

As an aside, I know there are all kinds of digital apps and such out there, but I swear by the old-fashioned (some might say anachronistic) paper planner.

So — find tools that make it possible to clear space in your busy life for this particular walk, and for holding yourself accountable for going the distance. Other essential gear for the journey:

Recognition that we each have our own path; don’t look over your shoulder and stop dead in your tracks because you see someone else speeding down a different road. Comparison is the death of happiness and productivity.
Pleasure in the process, because there are no guarantees about what you’ll have at the end of it.

The “no guarantees ” is tough. Not only do I struggle with my own doubts, but there is the inevitable fear of what other people may or may not think/feel/see in my chosen path. But I’m keeping at it and finding that having made the choice and committed to the walk, the most important thing to keep close on a long and wandering journey may be trust — trust that wherever the road is going, it’s where I need to be.

How about you? Is there something you feel you need to keep working at even if you’re not sure where it’s going?

Trusting the Journey

Living an Art-full Life