Christina Solstad - Spirit of Chaco Blog

Nurturing Your Own Creative Process

My recent writing dry spell is teaching me about my own creative process, and how I can nurture it.

I love to write. I need to write. But the truth is, I don't always write, and sometimes it is downright hard. I know ... a writer writes, and writing happens when you put your butt in the chair. But getting my butt in the chair ... therein lies the challenge.

Here's how I have learned I can nurture my own creative process, and "get my butt in the chair":

• Build my life around my writing, rather than my writing around my life. Carve out my own sacred time to write, and let nothing interrupt it. Make it a priority.

There is always something pressing needing my attention: the client work that pays my bills, that important phone call or meeting, or more sleep. If I don't plan the writing into my day, it won't happen.

• Remove myself from distractions long enough to write. Put myself in a different room to write, and close the door. Let others know this is my writing time.

I am easily distracted. It could be the beautiful day outside, the bills to pay, the client work waiting for me, an interesting conversation, the people I am visiting, or just feeling like I need a nap.

• Make sure I do at least some writing early in the day.

Otherwise, by the time I have a chance to write, it is often late, and my brain has shut off. The idea of being creative just doesn't compute.

Are You Dancing With Wild Abandon?

"Dance with wild abandon to the music within your heart."
This wonderful phrase awakened me from a lovely nap (as my writing often does), so I had to write it down and share it with you!

Seems music has been showing up for me on a regular basis these days - either literally or figuratively. Funny, because I have never considered myself musical.

I do love to play my Native American Indian wooden flute (not nearly often enough!), and had another flute player/flute maker tell me I play beautifully. So now, rather than saying I don't really know how to play, I am saying, Yes, I am a flute player! I play what I feel, what is in my heart.

Music, and especially playing it, opens up my senses, my heart, and my connection to Spirit.

I have never considered myself a dancer, either. In fact, I'm rather shy about it. Yet I had an opportunity recently to “dance with wild abandon,” with everyone doing their own thing, and it was so much fun! And there is always the “dancing in your living room with no one watching” kind of dancing. Who doesn't do that?!

Are you listening to what is in your heart, what bubbles up from your deepest self?  What do you do with what you hear? Why not follow it, and see what magic unfolds!

Related posts:

The Music Is All Around Us

Music at Chaco Canyon: Native American Flute

What If You Die With Your Music Still Within You?

What If You Die With Your Music Still Within You?

I realized a few years ago that a big fear of mine was dying with my “music” still within me, with all the feelings and thoughts and creativity bubbling up from my deepest self still unexpressed.

I no longer have that fear.

During a two- or three-year period many of those I loved - family, extended family, friends - died. My own mortality was staring me in the face, and urging me to take action now, for there was no way to know when my time would be up.

Since then I have been taking action (albeit slowly) on what I was hearing and feeling within - that I must write, and photograph, and create an online presence. What that would look like, I didn't know. But the feeling was strong, passionate, and I followed it, in my own way.

At times it seemed unlikely I would get anywhere, as I was working way too hard making a living, and had nothing left at the end of the day for creativity. And those who knew me took my intent and words with a grain of salt.

And, truthfully, I was afraid. What if I was no good? What if no one cared? But inside I also knew that didn't matter. I needed to do this (without really knowing what “this” was), regardless of what others thought.

So I took one slow step at a time. And I listened.

I no longer have that fear of dying with my music still within me. Wow!

I have a greater sense of peace because I am beginning to express what is within me, on this blog, in this new venue. Even those I have known my whole life are seeing aspects of me I have never before had a way to express.

I do it because I have to, because it is calling to me.

We all have our own unique gifts to share with the world, that, once expressed, will provide some sense of peace within. Are you expressing yours? If not, I urge you to begin - now.

Photo:  Moonrise near Casa Rinconada

Related post:  The Music Is All Around Us

The Music Is All Around Us

"The music is all around us. All you have to do is listen."
--August Rush

In the movie, August Rush, a young boy follows the music he hears all around him, convinced it will lead him to his birth parents. He can't NOT listen. To him, music is everywhere - the traffic, kids playing, wind chimes, someone talking, the subway beneath New York.

What is the music that is calling to you? Are you listening?

In whatever form your music shows up, it is Spirit, that something greater than you, speaking to your heart.

If we listen, magic happens. Life works better. We feel more fulfilled. We are always being guided, if we choose to listen and follow what we hear, and what we feel.

For some, like August Rush, their music is so loud they can't NOT listen. Some of us doubt ourselves, listening to others instead, and doing what seems reasonable or realistic.

What is your music? Writing? Painting? Photography? Cooking? Music? Teaching? or ...?

Listen to what calls to you. Even if it seems faint and you must listen closely. Allow it to wake you at night. Pay attention. See where it leads. Ask, What if?

You may just find something magical.

Inspired by Chaco: Anson Wright, Musician and Writer

Chaco Canyon has inspired many to express themselves creatively. One of those is Anson Wright, the Chaco Alliance Coordinator, who donates his time to lead the charge in our efforts to prevent the paving of the north road into Chaco.

Anson is an accomplished jazz guitarist and writer, having published three books and recorded two CDs (and a third to come). I recommend checking out his work.

Anson's marvelous collection of poetry, much of it inspired by his deep connection with Chaco, is called Sandstone Monastery. The cover is clearly Chacoan, showing the Supernova Pictograph near Penasco Blanco.

One reviewer said, "Wright delivers personal and moving passages concerning family, love, spirit and the landscape of his beloved Chaco Canyon."

And he has recently come out with his second CD (with photos of Chaco on the cover), The Sky at Our Feet, in collaboration with John Stowell. John, a musician who also loves Chaco, has put Anson's powerful poetry to music - a wonderful combination.

One of the moving poems set to music on the CD is "Coming Home."

Coming Home

Salt Lake City
heat rising off the asphalt
below a third floor balcony
with a view
southwest to Chaco.
Across the shopping mall
looms the Olive Garden,
white people slow-dining
at a furious pace.
Money flows
from air-conditioned hands,
menu choices tempt
in dizzying abundance,
a leisure class
dines casually
with non-leisurely appetite.

Theater as Inspiration: Pursuing Your Dreams

The theater is a wonderful source of inspiration. The performers are pursuing their dreams, and doing whatever it takes to be up on that stage. How many of us can say we are truly doing that?

I had forgotten how much I love the theater until I was fortunate enough to attend two great shows last week in New York City: Spring Awakening and Stomp.

Spring Awakening expresses the angst and discovery and exuberance of youth in puberty, through soul-searching and passionate song and dance.  Their inner feelings and emotions are unleashed, in straight-laced late 19th century Germany. 

Stomp is a high-energy blend of rhythm, percussion, and dance, combined with audience participation. The genius and creativity of using everyday items to create music is amazing. Garbage cans, brooms, match boxes?

The actors in both are young, and full of incredible energy and passion. Their creative energy (truly unbridled raw creative energy in the case of Stomp) is just bursting forth. I couldn't help but wonder what it took for them to get there.

What is clear is they are pouring their heart and soul into their performances.

How many of us pour our heart and soul into life? Are we willing to dig deep into who we are, and bring it forth in some way?

We have no way of knowing who might benefit or be inspired from our willingness to express who we truly are. Here's to pursuing our dreams.

When the Words Must Be Written: Heartbeat of Africa

Creative insights can be fleeting. Pay attention. Words can sometimes call clearly to be written in the dark of the night, but may have disappeared by the morning.

I wrote one of my favorite poems because the words insisted, and I listened, and acted. It was as if my mother stood next to me, gently shaking my shoulder, telling me to awaken, like she did when I was in grade school. I sat up, and said “what?!” out loud to the darkness.

The thoughts and words continued to insist, so I got up, grabbed pen and paper, stumbled to the next room, and wrote the words exactly as they sit today in "Heartbeat of Africa." Then I went back to bed. Thank goodness I listened … and acted.

It was two weeks after I had learned that my marriage was ending. My emotions and feelings ran deep and with such intensity that it scared me. And I wrote of an experience in Africa nearly a year and a half earlier.

Heartbeat of Africa

Connecting With Your Creative Self

Nature (and that includes Chaco) allows me to connect with that deepest part of myself beyond words.

Sometimes it comes pouring out of me and I must grab it before it is gone. Sometimes I struggle to find it and must work to entice it, then ride the wave for as long as I can.

I have learned that I must create a space where my creative self feels welcomed and nurtured.

Life, the mundane, and the (sometimes) necessary bits of getting along in this world – creating income to pay bills, email, commuting, groceries – tend to eat up my time, leaving precious little for what I most want to do, which is to create – in all the wondrous ways that I can.

Or is that simply an excuse, and a delay tactic, because I am afraid – what if I’m no good, have nothing to say that others want to hear, there is no room for my creations in an already crowded world?

Yet, more and more as I get older, I find that another fear drives me harder - what if I die without expressing, without sharing, all that is within me, feeling at times that it will all burst out, like those lovely dandelion seeds when you blow on them.

My job is to release them. My job is to become myself.

What do you have within you wanting to be released? And how do you connect with that part of yourself? I'd love to hear...