Put your damn phone down, Mindy
The Artists' Way: week 4 insights + musings
Truth — Juice — time: I’ve been meaning to send out The Artist’s Way weekly recaps in real-time…giving you insight into the full 12-week journey of the work. However, the past few weeks of recovery (I’m currently moving into week 6), have cast its monstery little claws into my wounded artist (say hello to procrastination, self-doubt, and “omg does this idea suck?”). We’ve been grasping for dear life over here — however, with small, gentle, and compassionate steps, the scales are tipping back to neutral. I will not get swallowed up in the shadows!
Today, you will receive recaps on weeks 1 - 4 of The Artist’s Way. Next Sunday you’ll get weeks 5 - 6. And from there, you’ll get 7 - 12 in weekly order. It’s been a slow start, but we’re (finally) off to the races.
Be prepared for bursts of tears and of laughter. A certain giddiness may accompany sudden stabs of loss. Think of yourself as an accident victim walking away from the crash: your old life has crashed and burned and your new life isn’t apparent yet. You may feel yourself to be temporarily without a vehicle. Just keep walking.
The Artist’s Way, week 4
RECOVERING A SENSE OF INTEGRITY
APRIL 1 - APRIL 7
I have a love/hate relationship with week 4 of The Artist’s Way.
Love: I have an excuse to delete Instagram for the billionth time in my life — a habit that dies very hard, as I constantly vacillate back and forth between “Is this app wasting my time, energy, and rotting my brain and self-worth?” and “ohhhh, but where else am I stay in the know?” Staying connected in a digital landscape is a weird one…something that I’m always second-guessing and evaluating.
Hate: You mean to tell me that I have to sit in stillness and the uncomfortable truths of my addictive tendencies? In case you haven’t tried it, not consuming any type of media for 7 days straight is hard as hell.
In case you haven’t caught on by now, Week 4 is media depreviation week. Arguably one of the most challenging weeks of the course, as it forces you to face the biggest challenge of all: the addiction we have to consumption and the constant chase of inspiration from others.
Reading deprivation casts us into our inner silence, a space some of us begin to immediately fill with new words — long, gossipy conversations, television bingeing, the radio as a constant, chatty companion. We often cannot hear our own inner voice, the voice of our artist’s inspiration, above the static.
Honest changes, media deprivation, and inviting in more presence.
My creative blocks are doing their best to remain stuck. Up until week 4, I didn’t realize how much I was mindlessly and aimlessly consuming — wake up, scroll. Bored, scroll. Avoiding discomfort, scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. It’s like my fingers have a mind of their own and conscious thought is weakened at the knees by their grip for instant gratification and dopamine spikes.
And alas, perfect timing for media deprivation week. A cleanse for the soul and an honest look at the addictive patterns I have a hard time keeping at bay. Notorious of creating my own rules (inside of already set guidelines), I like to set my own rules of the game when it comes to media deprivation. Here are mine for the week:
Delete Instagram from my phone
Checking in 1x per day from a desktop is okay (Idk why, I thought maybe I would post something or even worse…miss something business-related). I ended up breaking this rul in the first 5 minutes of the deprivation. I checked IG from my desktop multiple times throughout the first day because my unruly brain told me to — by day 4ish I stopped checking altogether.
Avoid listening to podcasts
Music I’m fine with. I actually listened to a lot of music…something I haven’t done in a while. I forgot how much music moves me — into different moods, states of being, and inspired movement. Through music, I was inspired to revisit archived playlists and get back on my yoga mat. Beats. Music. Breath. Flow. It felt fantastic. Oh, and Cowboy Carter remains on repeat.
Avoiding reading any newsletters and Substacks
(RIP : one of my favorite to indulge in). This turned out to be a blessing — I took stock of how much inspirational content I consume. I have a knack for seeing someone else’s writing and wanting to my own spin on the subject. What happened to my authentic voice? What inspires me? I guess that’s what we’re here to find out.
Avoid reading any books
Woof, that’s a challenge. If you know me, you know how big of a deal this is. Rules are rules. I’m proud to admit I didn’t break this rule, even though I’m in the middle of a fantastic novel. Pat on the back for me!
Avoid watching any sort of streaming content
Tbh, this one isn’t that big of a deal to me. I haven’t been a ‘TV person’ in a few years. One thing I am guilty of? YouTube. This turned into a habitual pattern that I can’t seem to break. It’s so random and weird, but definitely still within the wheelhouse of guilty consumption pleasures.
Media deprivation is a very powerful tool — a very frightening one. Even thinking about it can bring up enormous rage. For most blocked creatives, reading is an addiction. We gobble the words of others rather than digest our own thoughts and feelings and rather than cook up something on our own.
So let’s get cooking. This week is all about finding inspiration from your surroundings. So naturally, I looked to my surroundings to guide me. In the process, I (humbly and naively) forgot that life is kinda exciting. Can you believe that for a minute, I forgot that I live in Portugal and the world is my oyster? It sounds painfully privileged, but it’s easy to get into a groove of life and keep the groove in a constant state of existence. Bubbles. It’s easy to exist in bubbles.
One morning, after my morning pages were complete, I sat twiddling my thumbs, anxious and unsure of how to fill my time. Slowly but surely, I realized I had more time in my day when I lifted the unconscious veil of scrolling. Freeing myself (and my aging eyes) from my screen unlocked new possibilities. Now the question remains: “What do I want to do with this time?”
I took myself to a local Pastelarias (Portuguese pastry shop) — staying constricted within my expat bubble, I’ve shied away from authentic local places the past few months, so this seemed like a wonderful change of pace.
And it was.
I left my phone behind — freeing myself of distraction — and just observed. The commerce of it all. The hustle. The community. The culture.
I listened to a language I didn’t understand. Watched customers go in and out the door. Curiously studied people’s orders and tried to guess why they chose sweets over savory (I love knowing people’s coffee and breakfast orders). Paid attention to how the coffee was made. Eventually, I realized that behind the counter is a fully built operating system — running seamlessly from the woman at the counter taking orders, to the dishwasher, to the man at the register taking your money.
Flow.
They were operating in flow.
And here I am, so stuck in my own little screen-filled world — forgetting what flow looks like.
Each and every person in the place was in flow.
The ladies at the table gossiping.
A man sitting down with a coffee and a crossword puzzle.
The two guys standing by the door, not doing anything but shooting the shit and gawking at the news.
The waiter running pastries and croissants back and forth to tables.
The manager of the cafe bursting through the kitchen door like a heavy weight of energy, making sure his ship was running smoothly.
The woman taking orders at the counter: cool, calm, and collected.
The older woman impressively making multiple coffees at once. Again, under no stress at all.
And me: blissfully watching it all play out.
it was the most present I have felt in a long time.
And it felt good.
Art is the imagination at play in the field of time.
Ah, the Artist Date. One of the basic tools of The Artist’s Way and basically impossible to find ’the time’ to do. At least that becomes my lame, irrational, and nowhere-near-the-truth excuse as to why I am not taking them (continuing the self-sabotagey cycle of remaining creatively stifled). In theory, I love The Artist Date and am choosing to prioritize the sacredness of the date in practice. Here, I’ll be documenting how I am choosing to nurture my artist each week. Here, I’ll be showing you how I play.
Truth time: my artist date practice is still messssssssy. I didn’t realize how much of a flake I am…to myself. In a twisted fate of irony (and I can’t believe I am saying this) I think I’m a bad date? I always thought I was a fun date. Spontaneous date. ‘Not here for a long time, but a good time kind of date’. Right now, I feel like a wet blanket — at least I’m showing up like one (to myself). Why is it so challenging to feed fun, play, and joy into my life? Damn, where’d the Mindy I know go? Who is she committed to…other people, or herself?
I had planned an exciting artist date (aerial yoga — how fun!) but I missed the class (due to my own unraveling…slept through my alarm after a wine-induced late night out in Lisbon) However! I course-corrected and still took one! I won’t let canceled plans get in the way of my inner artist.
I colored for most of Saturday evening. And my inner artist loved it.
I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to color (with actual crayons) for more than 10 minutes. I kid you not, I colored for about 5 hours. Undistracted. Unprovoked. Spotify playing gently in the background and my phone nowhere to be seen, I let my inner artist take charge with crayons, color palettes, and cat photos. Random, yet effective. Creatively fulfilled.
It was innocently so much fun. As a 33-year-old single woman, I never expected my Saturday evenings to be consumed by cat-colored pages and the loving presence of my own company.
5 hours spent in childhood joy. 5 hours spent well.
I am willing to create
I am willing to learn to let myself create
Week 4 creative affirmations
An audio note in unfurling the ‘God concept”
TL:DR, God can be anything you want it to be — if anything let it serve as Good. Orderly Direction.
OPEN YOUR CLOSET.
Throw out — or donate — one low-self-worth outfit. (You know the pieces that lay untouched at the bottom of drawers). Make space for the new.
I did this as I’ve been slowly getting rid of more items in my small wardrobe selection. I’ve still been living out of mainly two suitcases with limited wardrobe, yet most of my pieces aren’t me anymore. I started consciously asking the questions: “Do I like this?” “Does this add value?” “Maybe I should reconsider wearing this t-shirt with the whole in the armpit.”
Any piece of clothing (including a falling apart vintage leather jacket that was my staple piece of outwear for years), went in the donation pile. No drama. No questioning. Just out. It felt amazing.
Out with the old. In with the new.
See you in week 5.