Scarcity and abundance
Reminding myself that it is in connection and a devoted, intentional (creative) practise that we find abundance
The last few weeks I have had to work (hard, still) through some scarcity mindset. My two biggest triggers for scarcity, and I dare say it is the same for many of you, is money and time.
When I feel constriction in those two things, I can find myself in a self doubt spiral pretty quickly. Being a full time creative is a dance - when in flow it is, well, fluid. Ethereal, light, expansive, filled with potential and promise. When something - an unhelpful but well practised mindset, a circumstance, hormones, grief, existential dread - dams up that flow a little, the dance gets stilted, rigid. Broken. And everything backs up. The fear response that is so well practised because it served you once or twice when you were young but you continued to diligently practise it into adulthood takes over (and because it is hardwired into our grey-matter), and suddenly the sabretooth tiger is everywhere you turn. Fight, flight, freeze - freak out. Hello acute stress response, my old friend.
I have been working with a self-doubt coach for 18 months now, and it is truly the best investment I have made in myself. I have a background in psychology, I have worked in the human rights arena. I know in an academic sense all of the ‘things’ we should know about how we function as human beings, but there is a difference between knowing and understanding. There is a difference in knowing and doing the work.
The first thing I try to remind myself of is that these feelings, they are not the forever reality, this is just momentary. “What else might be true”, I ask myself (oh, I ask myself this question A LOT when I know my brain is in story mode). Nothing exists in a vacuum. The waters might be turbulent at the moment, but I can hold myself in them, I can make space for myself with compassion. I can be my own companion, hold my own hand and walk slowly through this, remaining curious and kind, but still moving, practising, learning, loving.
Moving is the work, moving my body, moving through the emotions, moving my focus. When it seems easier to sit and stress out and stay stuck, I remind myself to take a walk and talk to the wild. When I’m in conversation with the birds or the trees I am reminded to be present - they are the epitome of presence, right? They exist authentically right here and now - they are not making up future events to fit into a doomsday story that their brains are wrapped up at the moment. As the wren unfurls her wings and flits from bramble to reed, she is thinking about the insects on the fly with her and how delicious they are - she is not speaking harshly to herself or imagining future catastrophes as a result of a choice made now or last week or 25 years ago. When the eucalypt expands her roots down deep into the soil, a millimetre at a time, she is not wrapped in a blanket of self cherishing thoughts - she is present, she is abundant and expanding, she is moving, even a little at a time.
Connection and compassion, curiosity and kindness.
I have also noticed I am more likely to be stuck in these emotions if I don’t prioritise my creativity. If I am sitting at my computer, working (or productive procrastinating) but not actually painting or drawing, the spiral deepens. If I turn away from the screen and put pigment to surface instead, there is a release. The movement of my arm, of my body, as I draw or paint. The movement of my attention to my subject takes me out of and away from the quagmire, a release. The redirection to presence is intentional.
It is the scratch of graphite over paper. It is the sound that a brush wrapped in oil paint makes as it moves across canvas (which is different to the sound it makes as it moves across panel). The sound of movement. I can find abundance in this practice, in the sharing of molecules in new ways to make something that wasn’t there before, and will never be made exactly the same again. I can celebrate abundance in the way that I can do this practice over and over, that I can “live, laugh, love” in it, that I can learn from it over and over, that I can be endlessly inspired. That is abundance, there is no scarcity there. The spiral in this practice is not downward, it is inward, and then outward - expansion and contraction. An embodiment of the creative dance. Movement.
In scarcity then, I can find my way to abundance by being present, by deeply observing the lessons in presence that the wild world affords, by showing devotion to the creative practice that sustains my heart and mind. These things are all free (or relatively so, a simple pencil and paper will do after all). In abundance then, and with age, my roots into this earth grow ever deeper.
{little missives}
A few posts made recently, but not sent to your inbox. You can catch up on them here:
Leaf: “ Although I live in a country where most of the native trees are evergreen, there is a deep importance to observing your own seasons and cycles…”
Handwriting: “The wild adores you, sees your wild heart and smiles. “I know you” she says.”
Sweetness: “Sweetness is a cup of chamomile tea in your beloved grandmother's china, with a couple of childhood favourite biscuits…”
Midday: “I realise I am just about at midday. My Nan lived to 100 and I want to too, so if that is the case I am not far from halfway there.”
I’m Reading: “I have both been called, and called myself a serial book hoarder. I have also explained with complete sincerity that all of these books are for “my retirement”.
Beneath My Feet: “Beneath my feet is the place I have lived for a long time, but only recently realised I could choose to root into instead of dreaming of elsewhere.”
Favourite Taste | Red: “Strawberry. A single word, but both a poem and an epic love story for me personally.
{this artist life}
The Beheld, Beloved Collection was released this week. Miniature original oil paintings and drawings in the style of 18thC eye miniatures, but in honour of our endangered kin. Tiny art for your wild heart.
I’m honoured to be walking this wonderful wild world with you.
xo Natalie
Scarcity and abundance
Oh, so true and beautifully written, Natalie. I've been observing myself lately when I find I'm having one of those constricted moments. I try to remember to breathe and yes, get outside! Nature makes everything better. So does making art, which I have been absent from for far too long.
Take care, Barbara
Super sentiments and I agree on so many levels Really enjoyed reading this and made me feel less alone in my thinking