I did it. I finished The Artist’s Way — you know, the book I’ve been yammering on and on about since August 2021?
I read the book one small section at a time and journaled daily along with it, in addition to doing the various creative tasks at the end of each chapter. I did this each day for 149 days (yes, I’m aware that it’s a 12-week, a.k.a. 84-day, program, but I’m slow), and every one of those days I healed and grew creatively a little more.
In following the program, I could trust that I was doing the right thing every day. That I was on the right path. It felt wonderful.
And now it’s over, and I’m not sure what to do next.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, I’m feeling a little lost and afraid at the prospect of not having a daily dose of The Artist’s Way to prompt, guide, coach, encourage, and heal me every day. I’m afraid to stop making steady forward progress, or worse, relapse, backtrack, or lose my progress altogether.
I finished the book on Friday, and this morning I sat down and just stared at the white space of my journal, feeling like a baby bird freshly shoved from the nest. Spiraling downward, uncertain of how to fly on my own.
I wrote a couple words about how I felt and what to make of that — basic Morning Pages protocol — and it felt… unsafe, somehow. Uncertain. Shaky. I didn’t have the confidence of Julia Cameron’s training wheels beneath me, or the reassurance of a figurative parent jogging behind me, ready to catch me if I fell.
Okay — I realize I might be delving into the melodramatic. I know that I’m not going to literally fall off of writing. I know that I’m not going to get physically hurt doing any of this. I know that on the list of all the scary things in the world, journaling doesn’t rank very highly. I know that uncertainty is a huge part of being a creator. I know all of these things.
But I thought I’d feel more ready. Less lost. After 149 days, you’d think I would know how to move forward from here, or at least have some faint idea. I’ve been joking that once I finish The Artist’s Way, I’m just going to pick it back up and start on page 1 again, so maybe I’ll do that. Julia Cameron also has written other books on creativity, such as The Right to Write, The Listening Path, and others, so maybe I’ll start one of those.
I realize there’s a lesson to be learned here, as there is a lesson in everything — that I need to stop relying on others and start relying on myself, that there is no “right” and “wrong” way to be a creator, that those magic ballet shoes weren’t really magic all along. The magic is in us.
But so is the chaos and the anxiety and the potential for failure (whatever “failure” means to you). And with that in mind, sometimes it’s nice to pretend that there is a “right” path, and we’re on it. That we can relax and settle into simply enjoying the journey.
Back in November 2020, I recorded a Write Now podcast episode titled, “I Have No Idea What I’m Doing,” and it remains true today. It will probably always be true. We can’t know what we don’t know. We can’t be certain of things that are so inherently uncertain. We might not even be on a path at all.
We can only continue carving our way through the wilderness, one word at a time, realizing as we go that we are creating our own journey, and no one else can create it for us.
Words & warmth,
Sarah