Tag: confidence

Go With the Flow

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Originally published on Artist Soapbox on 30 September 2019

Greetings, Soapboxers!

Brass tacks, y’all: I am FIRED UP. Motivated. Here to work. Ready to roll up my sleeves and get into it. Can you feel it? This electric pulse of inspiration and creativity? That’s the current state of affairs in this corner of ASBX-land. We’re on a whole new thing now, kids, and the message is: “I’ve been in the corral, waiting for race time. You gonna let me run? Because I’m ready.” Mara Thomas, reporting for duty.

Quite a 180 from this summer’s more subdued topics — the Creative Vacuum and the Gifts of Loneliness. How did I get here from there? Sometimes things come along that shake up your day-to-day to such a degree that you find yourself on new ground. For me, what flipped the table on my navel-gazing were some recent experiences that connected me with flow, the zen-like state where time stops and you’re completely immersed in the task at hand. I have been having a hard time connecting to flow with my writing. However, you know where I almost always feel connected to flow? Playing music.

Have you experienced creative flow? Where you are so into what you’re doing that you don’t realize several hours have flown by? Where the project is so engrossing that you don’t even think to stop and eat or take a break? That’s flow, my friends. Flow researcher and psychologist Mihály Csíkszentmihályi popularized the term and identified ten factors that accompany a flow state, including:

  • Concentration and focus
  • Losing feelings of self-consciousness
  • Losing track of time
  • Complete focus on the activity itself
  • Participating in an intrinsically rewarding activity

Let’s look at that last one more closely.  An “intrinsically rewarding activity” sounds to me like the “Make Pots” theory we’ve talked about before on this blog — that the pursuit is valuable for its own sake. That there is value in the doing of the thing, regardless of any outcome. Plus, the more you do the thing, the better you will become at doing the thing and the more fun you can have playing around with the thing as your skill level and confidence grow. In other words, immersing yourself in a task you enjoy can lead to flow. I have felt flow with running, with gardening, with cleaning, and I invariably feel flow when I practice and perform with my band Cold Cream.

Cold Cream rocking out at Hopscotch 2019. Photo by Cory Rayborn.

Cold Cream is my first experience as a band’s dedicated vocalist. In previous bands, I always played an instrument in addition to singing and frequently felt like I wasn’t performing optimally at either. Now, though, I can focus all my efforts on the vocals, connecting with the message of the songs, tuning into what my bandmates are doing, and fire-hosing that energy out into the crowd. I can tap into something deep inside of me — this is rage, let’s be real — and channel it to serve the music. It’s incredibly cathartic and I feel completely removed from my self-critical nemeses, perfectionism and comparison. The focus and energy it takes to perform don’t leave room for anything else.

Have I mentioned it is also incredibly fun? It is! Once we start playing, it’s all I want to do. What’s more, I can feel the residual effects of these flow states for several days and it’s giving me more confidence with song-writing, something that has been a major creative roadblock for me for nearly 15 years. That confidence is spilling over into rewrites for my play, YEAR OF THE MONKEY, a process that has been dogged with perfectionism. My attitude in this moment is, “Go for it. Give it all you’ve got and don’t look back.”

Creativity is at my doorstep. It’s making its presence known in a big way. Were I not buoyed by these recent flow experiences, I might feel overwhelmed or unsure or make some excuse not to answer the call. Having such a potent source of flow in my life truly makes me feel like so many things are possible. I’m ready to grab the reins and hold on.

We’d love to hear about your experiences with flow! Drop us a line at artistsoapbox@gmail.com. It’s always great to hear from you.

‘Til next time,
MT

P.S. See and hear Cold Cream in this video by Dave Schwentker from Hopscotch 2019.

Readers Write: “Endurance”

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Ruby_Sun

☀️Good News Alert!☀️ A piece I submitted is included in The Sun magazine’s Readers Write section (Sept issue)! Readers Write is perhaps my favorite feature in The Sun. This year I challenged myself to submit something every month and had to chuckle at the cosmic timing: I received word about being included on the topic “Endurance” just days after I ran my latest marathon.

Running has taught me a lot about myself. I can see directly how early experiences of confidence in running have catapulted me to where I am now, personally, physically and creatively. Here are the medals I’ve received from running full and half marathons (and one ultra marathon!), and, perhaps most special of all, the one from the first 5K I ever ran in 2013. Never dreamed I would be this person, but here we are.

Medals
More so than endurance running, this piece describes the dynamics I endured in my last relationship — one with a verbally and emotionally abusive man. Most of my friends had no idea the degree to which this was happening, mostly because I was embarrassed to tell them (file under: signs you’re in a toxic relationship). The piece describes merely the quaint tip of the iceberg of what it was like to be with him. I remember viscerally the internal conflict I felt between my self-worth wanting me to stand up to his bullying and the inherited lifetimes of conditioning telling me to stay quiet and small. These days I am stronger and have more tools but this is still a work in progress for me.

Pain that is not transformed is transmitted. No one is immune from this. Today I am speaking directly to my cis male friends: Men who have not healed their own trauma cause harm to others. FULL STOP. That harm has a daily impact on womxn, children, folks with marginalized identities. Harm takes MANY forms. Even good guys cause harm. Men, if someone tells you that you are causing harm, literally the least you can do is listen. If you had any idea of the infinite ways womxn twist and bend themselves to prioritize your comfort, it would/should make your heads explode. Centering men’s comfort has been a survival skill for generations. We need your help to disrupt this.

Here is the piece. Thank you for reading!

Sun_Endurance 1Sun_Endurance 2

Running Toward Creativity

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Originally published on Artist Soapbox on 28 January 2019

Greetings, Soapboxers!

This morning I ran a 14-mile trail race at Little River Regional Park in Durham. Running is one of the primary ways I connect with my body and is a huge resource for me. Trail running, though, requires an entirely different set of tactics. Sure, running is the common denominator, but you use different shoes, different muscles, a different gait, and a different mindset as you’re constantly negotiating rocks and tree roots and mud. These obstacles are often cleverly hidden under a carpet of leaves and pine needles. There are switchbacks and river crossings. You might fall. You probably will fall. You will most certainly get dirty.

Which brings me here. To how I’m feeling about creativity at this point in 2019. I’m on the trail. And I’m loving it.

When I’m running I don’t compare. I run my own race. Simply showing up and finishing is a victory. If other people ran faster or slower, that’s irrelevant to me. I’m also not comparing present-moment me with any other version of me. Am I in better or worse shape than I was last year? Irrelevant. I’m here today and I’m doing this thing. This serves as a good reminder for my creativity when I notice other people putting their work out into the world. Art is not a competition. Other people’s success is not my failure. I can cheer them on — and I can cheer myself on — without comparison.

About halfway through today’s race, the crowd had thinned so much that I couldn’t see any runners in front of me or behind me. I’m not a seasoned trail runner, and at times the path was very difficult to discern. In those moments, a voice came into my head. It said, “Slow down. Take the next obvious step.” In my creative pursuits, I often feel out of my depth with no clear path forward. Then Anxious Brain shows up and wants to skip to the inevitable embarrassing disaster at the end (not inevitable, but Anxious Brain hasn’t learned that). Today though, I was in the middle of the literal woods with absolutely no idea where I was. But I didn’t panic. I wasn’t lost. There was a path. Faint as it may have been. All it took was a moment of shifting my awareness… and I was back at it. Taking the next obvious step and the step after that and on and on until the finish line. I’ll remember that when I’m feeling overwhelmed by the task in front of me. Break it down and just focus on the next step.

Those miles spent running by myself also made me think of the solitary nature of creativity. Whether it’s writing, doing research, practicing music, or learning lines, much of my creative work is done in solitude. Even though I am often by myself, I know I’m never alone. We’re fortunate to have such a supportive creative community here in the Triangle. If I need some encouragement, it’s always close at hand. Just like the person on the trail today who emanated seemingly from nowhere to play music on a plastic recorder as a way of supporting the runners. He gave me a boost when I needed one. Bonus points for being random and delightfully weird.

A few months ago, I shared my latest battle with my creative frenemy, perfectionism. At that time, my approach to writing felt like using tweezers to build a sandcastle when I thought I should be slopping around buckets of sand. At that time, that’s what I was working with and my only way forward was to accept it and keep showing up anyway.

Today, I drove home covered in actual mud with a smile on my face. This is the energy I want to carry into my creative pursuits this year. So many things are coming up that I look forward to sharing with you over the next few months. I can honestly say I have no idea how any of it will go, but I’m embracing that. I’m on the trail.

‘Til next time!

MT

The Importance of a Physical Practice

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Originally posted on Artist Soapbox on 26 March 2018.

Greetings, Soapboxers!

I have really been enjoying talking to you about clearing space and bringing in nourishment to our lives. I like to think of it as the things we *get* to do for ourselves, rather than the things we *have* to do.

Today, let’s dive into another important resource for us creative types (psst: that’s all of us). In podcast episode 016, actor, singer, and director Dana Marks answered this question: “What’s something every artist should learn or practice regularly?” Her answer? “A physical practice.” Amen, Dana. I’m right there with you. Let’s get out of our heads and into our bodies.

A physical practice can take so many forms. We all enjoy different things, so find something that speaks to you, something you’ll enjoy that is realistic for you to keep up with. Personally, I fell bass-ackwards into a love of running about four years ago and it changed my life. That along with swimming and daily walks with my dogs are the cornerstones of my physical practice.

A physical practice can also encompass more than what we traditionally think of as “exercise.” About two years ago, I started practicing what I call “The Self-Care Power Half-Hour.” This routine consists of:

Meditation: 20 minutes

Yoga: 5 minutes

Breathing: 5 minutes

This practice has absolutely made a difference for me — me, the person whose picture appears next to “Monkey Mind” in the dictionary. If I can do it, so can you. The yoga series and the breathing technique I use are both said to “build internal fire” and, man, that’s what I’m looking for. After 10 minutes, I am ready to kick ass. But, like, in a zen way.

“But Mara,” you’re saying. “I hate running and 30 minutes of anything is more than I can do right now.” I hear you! Any amount of time — seriously, one minute — is a great place to start. Every morning while my bread toasts I use that 3 minutes to do some push-ups. Let me tell you why I do that specific exercise.

“Boundaries” is a new concept for me. Most of my life until very recently has been centered on other people’s needs, often to the detriment of my physical and emotional health. My therapist specifically recommended I do push-ups to have the physical, felt sensation of pushing back against something. My body needs to absorb this physicality so that it can advise my people-pleasing brain when it needs to push back.

Similarly, my other physical practices have helped me remember my body’s inherent wisdom. I spent many years disconnected from it and reconnecting has been a process. Running has helped me gain perspective on the Making Pots philosophy — it’s about practice and the process,  not the outcome. Not every run is going to be my fastest, just like not every piece of art I create is going to be a masterpiece. But I keep going and I keep learning and that’s what matters.

Soapboxers, we want to hear from you! What physical practices keep you buoyed despite creative or emotional or literal storms? Leave a comment or drop us a line at artistsoapbox@gmail.com and tell us how it’s going.

‘Til next time,

MT

Artist Soapbox: Farewell, Creativity Obstructions. Hello, Creativity Resources!

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Originally published on Artist Soapbox on 12/29/2017.

**Last post of 2017!**

Happy New Year, Soapboxers!

How does that salutation sit with you? How does it feel to be looking ahead to a fresh calendar? Hopeful? Scary? Exciting? Full of dread? Are you taking stock of 2017 or lighting a match and throwing it over your shoulder as you Auld Lang Syne your way into 2018?

I’ll be honest, this month I didn’t show up for my creativity as much as I would have liked. Can I get a show of hands from all the folks who have been running around ragged this month? Holiday parties, traveling, work and/or family obligations… December is NON STOP. While I treasure time spent with friends and loved ones, I can feel my creativity squeaking out a quiet “Remember me?” in the background.

I hear you, creativity, and I haven’t forgotten you. You are important and you will not be ignored.

Is your creativity talking to you? What is it saying? What does it most need from you in 2018?

So far in this blog series, Tamara and I have discussed different obstructions that present themselves when you’re on your creative path.

  1. Imposter Syndrome: Who do I think I am? Why even try?
  2. Perfectionism: I’m so afraid that my creation will not be perfect that I never actually do it.
  3. Comparison: I’ll never be as good as that person. I should probably quit.
  4. Distraction: I’ve convinced myself that all these other things have priority over my creativity.

This framework has helped me when I’m struggling creatively. I can remember that these feelings are part of the process. They are normal but that doesn’t mean they’re true or that I need to indulge them.

Right now I am definitely guilty of #4. But you know what? I’ve made progress on the others. They don’t have the hold on me that they did even one year ago. Change is possible, friends! But here’s the fine print: it took work. It took facing down fears and doing it anyway. It took getting out of my own way. It took hours at the keyboard doing the actual work of writing a script. It took hours of self-resourcing to help me navigate re-writes and self-doubt and the excitement and stress of seeing the work come to life.

In 2018, I would like to share with you and learn from you the things we do for ourselves that resource us. That give us confidence. That align us with our hopes and dreams for ourselves. That give us a boost, whether that’s emotionally, physically or creatively. Because I gotta tell you — creativity can be scary. It can be vulnerable. Performing in front of people, sharing your words with others, displaying your paintings or drawings — these are courageous acts. I truly believe that we must unapologetically care for ourselves to be able to share these parts of ourselves with others and maintain our emotional, physical and creative health. Let’s talk about how to make this happen for ourselves and our creative community.

What do you think, Soapboxers? We’re all in this together. Thank you for supporting the Artist Soapbox endeavors this year. It has been a pleasure to share with you and especially to hear from you! Please leave a comment or write us at artistsoapbox@gmail.com .

‘Til next time!
-MT

Artist Soapbox: Reclaiming MY Time

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Originally published on Artist Soapbox on 12/11/2017.

I am a goal-oriented person. I do really well with a plan. If all the steps are laid out for me — i.e. marathon training — I will show up every day and do the work. When I don’t have a plan, though, it’s like a blender with the lid off. What am I doing? What’s that over there? Hey that sounds fun! Squirrel! Instagram! Where did this month go?

This fall I was in need of a serious recalibration. My major goals had been accomplished and I was staring into the void. Or, more accurately, I was filling the void with social media and lots of other distractions.

I needed help and it arrived in the form of the Passion Planner. [This is in no way a paid endorsement, though if the #pashfam wants to send an undated planner my way, I would make good use of it]. It emphasized the importance of prioritizing your tasks. We all juggle a zillion balls at any given time but not everything has equal weight. What are the 2 or 3 things that really move you along your path? What if you focused on those and let the time/energy leeches fall to the wayside?

Once I mapped out some goals and the steps they required, it became eminently clear that I needed to spend a whole lot more time reading and writing and a whole lot less time trying to capture the perfect Boomerang video of my dogs. If I was going to make progress, I had to confront the empty time calories in my day and make a conscious change in behavior. I felt overwhelmed by the prospect, but when the student is ready the teacher will appear. Enter Representative Maxine Waters.

To put it bluntly: Rep. Waters does not have time for your bullshit. She has served in Congress for nearly 25 years. She has seen more than enough to know that the current state of political affairs can be upgraded in size from Dumpster Fire to Garbage Barge or Tectonic Plate. This summer, while questioning the Secretary of the Treasury, Rep. Waters grew so frustrated with his evasions that she refused to give her time to his bluster. The video footage of the session went viral and “Reclaiming My Time” arrived in the national consciousness.

In the latest blog posts for ASBX, Tamara and I shared thoughts about comparison and the ways it can help or hinder you creatively. Rep. Waters provided me a much-needed dose of helpful, high-frequency comparison to apply to my everyday life.

Am I scrolling glassy-eyed through Facebook? RECLAIMING MY TIME.

I obsessively checking my phone for any form of a distraction? RECLAIMING MY TIME.

Am I spending too much time thinking about things out of my control? RECLAIMING MY TIME.

I printed out a picture of Rep. Waters from the RECLAIMING MY TIME congressional session and put it on the front of my planner where it stares me down throughout the day. It’s surprising — or maybe it’s not — how often I need this reminder to keep me on task. What’s more, I know Rep. Waters won’t accept my excuses and, frankly, I do not want to let her down.

Once I had Rep. Waters’ watchful gaze to be accountable to, it’s amazing how quickly social media and other time/energy drains lost their appeal. Also, the planner gave me a concrete way to chart my progress (or lack thereof) and a visual representation of the days I did or didn’t show up for a particular task. This made me more motivated to do the work and keep myself moving forward, because MAN do I love checking boxes. For real.

So what about you, Soapboxers? Where and how could you RECLAIM YOUR TIME? What shifts might occur if you put your attention on the things that feed your soul rather than the things that distract you?

I know, it’s the holiday season. I’m looking at the month ahead and realizing that I have some decisions to make. Saying yes to a party or concert will sometimes mean saying no to writing, or vice versa. As easy as it would be to fill my month with social engagements, I simply must retain some time for myself, some time to keep plugging away at my creative endeavors. Even if it’s just 30 minutes a day. What about you? How are you showing up for yourself this month? If you need an extra boost, check out the RECLAIMING MY TIME gospel remix and repeat after me: Do you know the rules? When it’s my time, I can take it back.

We’re all in this together, Soapboxers. I’m interested to hear from you. Leave a comment or write us at artistsoapbox@gmail.com .

‘Til next time!
-MT

 

Artist Soapbox: Comparisons, Part I

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Originally published on Artist Soapbox on 11/25/17.

In general, comparing yourself to Patti Smith is a terrible idea. I don’t recommend it. But there I was, not yet 30 years old, reading her then-newly published Just Kids and mercilessly chastising myself over my boring, disappointing life.

Patti read Rimbaud and traveled to France and lived in the Chelsea and made Horses and on and on and on all before she was 30. By comparison, I was a washed-up old hag whose punk days, such as they were, were behind her. I missed my chance. I could never possibly accomplish anything worthwhile at this advanced age. Cue the violins.

Patti wasn’t the only hero I put through this deification/self-denigration gauntlet. I used to frustrate myself endlessly by comparing artists I admired and what they achieved by such-and-such an age versus my whole-lotta-nothing existence. Lovely readers, if you find yourself doing this, PLEASE STOP IMMEDIATELY and remember what Uncle Teddy said:

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

When I read Just Kids, I was at a low-point, creatively. It had been a few years since my band broke up and theater was not yet on the horizon. I felt stuck but my limited emotional skill-set allowed that stuckness to spiral quickly into hopeless catastrophizing. Everything needed to happen RIGHT NOW and if it didn’t, well, that was further proof of my worthlessness.

Then I started a new band. And then I got cast in a play. And then I took a pretty epic motorcycle trip. And then I started working with Little Green Pig. And then I started running. And then I did a lot of not-insignificant work on myself to get at all this bullshit that was holding me back. And on and on and on.

Because it’s bullshit, friends. It’s total bullshit. The thing that tells you you don’t measure up? Bullshit. You aren’t ____ enough? Bullshit. You’re too old/fat/lazy/whatever to do the things you want to do? Bullshit. That someone else’s success is somehow evidence of your failure? Bullshit.

Comparing myself to Patti Smith is bullshit. I will never be Patti Smith. Now I can read that as a simple statement of fact rather than a denouncement of my existence. What’s more, I am not here to be Patti Smith. I’m here to be me. I don’t have Patti’s words or experiences. I have mine. They are not any more or less significant than hers. They simply ARE. I’m done comparing.

Now I can put on Horses and feel nothing but inspiration. I can even remember my Just Kids low point with a fond wink and a bit of maternalism for Young Me, the ever-harsh. I can support and lift up my fellow art-makers because there is room for all of us. This is the world we’re making.

We’re all in this together, Soapboxers. I’m interested to hear from you. Leave a comment or email us at artistsoapbox@gmail.com .

‘Til next time!

-MT

 

Artist Soapbox: Make More Pots

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Originally published on Artist Soapbox on 11/11/2017.

It’s a rainy, shit day in Durham and I want to talk about perfectionism.

I was one of those insufferable kids for whom school came easily. Worksheets, spelling tests, you name it – my goal was get everything right and be the first kid who finished. While that allowed me to skate through 3rd grade, it didn’t do me many favors later in life when I actually had to study or learn new skills. I thought any evidence of a struggle meant that I was an idiot. Young Me was harsh AF. Perfection was the goal, and if I didn’t nail it on the first try, I instantly jumped to the conclusion that I was a complete failure. Have you ever felt that way about yourself?

If you read my first post for ASBX, you learned how “Nobody Cares” became a touchstone for me to move past fear and perfectionism during the writing process. I received another excellent piece of advice that day related to this story.

The story describes a pottery class where one half of the class was instructed to make perfect pots. The other half was instructed to make as many pots as they could. At the end of the semester the students entered their best pot into a contest. Overall, the students who made the most pots also tended to make the best pots. In essence: Want to get good at something? Do the thing. Again and again. As much as you can. Aim for the practice. The product. The making. That is the goal. Perfection MAY BE a byproduct. Maybe.

Wait: Do you mean this might take work? I can’t simply sit down and watch the magic pour forth onto the page?  There might be missteps and frustration and straight-up garbage ideas along the way? That’s the message? Why would anyone do this?

Then, the same message arrived in my tea cup. (In case you were wondering, yes I do, on occasion, take guidance from the sayings on tea bags.) I couldn’t ignore this one: “You don’t manifest epic projects without bowing deeply to your daily grind.” What the shit? Now my tea was telling me to practice? FINE. Message received.

For most of my life, nothing sounded like a bigger drag than practicing. But now I know that the more you practice, the more fun you have when you are doing the thing. The kinder you are to yourself when things don’t go as planned. The more easily you can hear feedback because you don’t have so much invested in your precious, perfect creation.

When I think about perfectionism now, all I can see is the fear behind it. Furthermore, I cannot think of a more absurd concept to apply to creativity. Someone please bring me a perfect piece of art. I’ll wait. [insert nail-polish emoji]

Perfectionism does not want me to embrace the inherent messiness involved with creating. It tries to convince me I’d be satisfied with a life where I never created anything but at least I never made a fool of myself. What’s it gonna be, Mara? Repression or self-expression?

To some degree, I will probably always battle perfectionism, but it is rapidly losing ground to the rhythm of practice. Much like that pottery class, practice is showing me that at best I might make something worthwhile, maybe even great, and at worst I am learning and getting better and getting braver. There is no downside.

We’re all in this together, Soapboxers. I’m interested to hear from you. Leave a comment or email us at artistsoapbox@gmail.com .

‘Til next time!

-MT