Planting Tomatoes and Expecting Apples
I remember when I went to a therapist for the first time. I sat on the couch and, as you do the first time, tried to distill every facet of my life and situation into 45 minutes. When I finally paused to breathe, she looked at me and said, "Wow, you're really scattered. You should meditate." And my first thought was, "I can't meditate! I'm too scattered!"
That was almost 20 years ago. I'm still scattered, but definitely less so due to meditation. One thing I liked about that particular therapist was that she always gave me homework: an activity to try, a book to read, something to research. Lately I've been enjoying the app Insight Timer, because, in addition to meditation, there are courses you can take. And you know how I love school and classes and homework.
A recent course I took about mindset* talked about how the way you think is like planting a seed. And if you plant a tomato seed, you expect a tomato to grow. You don't plant a tomato seed and wait for an apple tree. It was specifically talking about negativity and "I can't do this" thinking, that if you think "I'll never amount to anything" you can't also expect to, you know, amount to something.
But I've been thinking about it in terms of the lies we tell ourselves about making time for our creative work. About how many times we think, "I'd love to get some writing done" or "I wish I could finish writing this book" or "I can never find time to paint." When you think that way, and tell yourself that those things are true, you're planting one seed and expecting another to grow. The book doesn't get written when you think "I wish I could find time to write this book." The book gets written when you do find time to write it.
I say all this with the caveat to be gentle with yourself. It's hard, making art out of nothing. It's hard when things are stressful and the time in your day is stretched like a drum, and it's all you can do to eat a proper meal. But if you want to create the art, maybe you'll feel better about things if you do it, just for a little bit? You don't have to finish, not today. You just have to make a tiny amount of progress.
You know the drill. Thirty seconds of work, and then thirty seconds more. One sentence, and then another. A mark with a pencil or paintbrush. Then you keep going. Keep watering your seed.
* I don't know why I'm being cagey about this course's title. It's one that you'll either nod your head and say "sounds great to me" or you'll roll your eyes and think "oof, no thank you." It definitely had its out-there moments, but overall I liked it. And now I'm taking a 30-day class about tarot cards that I'm enjoying a lot.
The revision I worked on all summer is done, and now it's sitting and resting for a month or two while I work on other writing. I'm glad I finally finished, though I feel slightly unmoored to be out of the world of the book. The characters are still talking to me and telling me what I should write. I hope they can wait. I'm looking forward to getting back to this book once it sits long enough for me to forget most of it (which takes a frighteningly short amount of time, honestly).
BROOKLYN FRIENDS! I'll be at the Brooklyn Book Festival next weekend. Come find me! I'll be doing a storytime with Ruth at 1:30 on Saturday the 21st, and then signing afterwards. Ruth will be part of the Illustrator Smackdown at 3:00, and I'll be there to cheer for everyone (because Lucy Ruth Cummins and Jessie Sima are among the illustrators who will also be on that stage, and I love them and their illustrations too).