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Inviting the creative inner child out to play
I’ve often attracted creative people to my coaching practice. It stands to reason. As a one-time semi-professional artist myself and also a keen writer, I have spent many years exploring the nature and vicissitudes of creative practice.
Later in life I discovered the relevance of creativity to environmental issues. I became, and remain, convinced that creativity holds the key to tackling the potentially devastating challenges we face. This might or might not involve ‘art’ per se, but having the courage to ‘take a line for a walk’[1] in the style of Paul Klee will only do us good. We need fresh eyes and attitudes and we simply cannot hope to “solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.[2]” Cue the need for creative practice. We need to get good at this.
To do this, we must learn to a) appreciate ourselves in our creative endeavours (and others in theirs) and b) prioritise our inner creative child. This may be hard to do, but the good news is that once we get the hang of it, it's catching: creativity spreads creativity.
Because our creative efforts are a deep expression of what is inside us, how they are received is a high stakes game. We have to get past our inner critic both to create, and put our efforts out into the world. It takes courage. Our inner critic is loud and it sounds like authority. It expresses a collective viewpoint which we have picked up ‘out there’ and internalised.
We must not let that critic stand in the way of our creative practice, and must protect our inner child from it, letting it play, unfettered, with what it loves. If it is stymied by fear of criticism, it becomes lost, trying to fulfil some external agenda, or miserable and sulky, unwilling to play at all - or both.
That adult, critical voice can direct things later: we can use it to be discriminating; to check for real quality in our creative output; to decide what to share, when and how, to protect the creative child's efforts from a premature glare of publicity, and big it up in its efforts. But if our critical adult crushes the joyful play of the inner child with too much expectation and burden, there will rarely be much creative work to share.
That creative inner child needs to be allowed to play without fear of judgement. This does not mean doggedly showing up at the easel or on the page, which can scare the pants off our young artist and send it into retreat. There is nothing as scary as a blank page and the pressure to do something ‘good’. Heeeelp!
If it has been criticised for a long time, our inner child might well play up when we first try to engage it. The best way to deal with this is to let it play up: make lots of bad pictures on purpose; scribble with wax crayons; flick ink; cut up the results; be anarchic in what you draw (write, sing etc); make a mess. Enjoy all of that. Demand nothing. Suddenly, you may find you are engaged in what you are doing, and a new creative idea emerges from the devastation of your anarchy.
The child within is really the muse. It is that part of us that feels wonder and inspiration, and, thankfully, doesn't know the rules. And it needs to be wooed or romanced if we want it to come out to play. This is best done by doing stuff you love. Sounds easy, but it isn’t always. For one thing, many people can't find time for anything but work in their busy lives. For another, we can be quite out of touch with we love, especially if it doesn't fit with our adult self-image, or if it was beaten out of us young.
If this sounds like you, and you long to re-find your way, it can help to remember favourite childhood games, toys, books and activities. What did you love doing? How could you honour that now? If Meccano was your thing as a child, could you fix something - or take it apart? If Barbie was your thing, could you look at a fashion mag, or buy something pink? Could you re-read, watch or listen to a childhood favourite story or song? Could you visit a toy shop, just for fun?
Another way to romance the muse is to delight the senses a little. Could you call in at the florist, or bakery, just for the fabulous aromas? Or pound up spices by hand for your evening meal? Could you take a walk along the canal to hear the birds? Could you call in an art gallery to delight the eyes? If you love ideas, could you visit a library and take out a book on a subject that fascinates you?
Finally, maybe, you simply need some rest. How would it be to have a siesta on the weekend, just once? Or lounge on your sofa to watch your favourite film? How would it feel to try it? [3]
Romancing the muse is really about ‘following your bliss[4]’ even just a little bit. If you can learn to "be kind to yourself. Begin to love and approve of yourself" that’s just what the little child within needs in order to express itself at its highest potential.’ [5] So turn off that inner critic from time to time at the very least, and do something you really love. Be kind to yourself for a bit, and see how that creative child comes out to play.
In the words of CG Jung, ‘The creative mind plays with what it loves.’ Without play, there is no creativity.
Good luck!
Artwork: album cover (detail) by Helen Tyrrell, mixed media 2023 for album 'Hitched to Everything' by Stuart Boardman
Notes:
[1] Paul Klee
[2] Attributed to Albert Einstein
[3] For more ideas check out ,‘The Artist’s Way’ by Julia Cameron
[4] Joseph Campbell, “I say, follow your bliss and don't be afraid, and doors will open where you didn't know they were going to be...that wouldn't have opened for anyone else.”
[5] Louise Hay, ‘You Can Heal Your Life’, published by Hay House, 2004 edition.
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