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When I’m Creatively Blocked, I’m a Complete Bastard
Notes from a Type 4 Enneagram
Resistance isn’t fun, folks.
We have all admired the dark and moody creative: the artists, novelists, poets and playwrights, musicians and more of our time. We have celebrated their genius, shared their pain.
But having recently stepped up my own journey to embrace my creative side, I have to admit — creativity is a complete and utter clustercuss.
I mean, sure. Creating itself is fun.
It’s the blocks, or the resistance, and who I become that I don’t jam so well with. But, seriously, who does? This is a known phenomenon. (See Steven Pressfield’s, The War of Art.)
All of the emotions and all of the inspiration of the universe, it can just get welled right up and stuck inside you like… Well, like something really unpleasant — plunging you deep into your near bottomless pity pool, and tossing you out into an abyss of unworthiness.
When you have a desire to create, but no way forward?
Your little creative legs are stuck in the resistance mud.
That’s the ideal conditions for a shitstorm, friend.