Stop being mean to yourself. (Please.)
You really don't have to try so hard. I promise.
I was on a group call a few days ago. At one point, another participant, a writer, mentioned that she had once decided she was not going to let herself down again, and that instead, she was going to sit at her computer until the words came. A large quantity of words.
No ifs, ands, or buts. No excuses. Those words were gonna come, hell or high water. And sure enough, eventually, they did.
Eventually.
This being Western culture, and America in particular, this revelation was met with cheers and excitement, because she had wrangled her misbehaving self into action.
Was I surprised? No.
Was I cheering? Also no.
In fact, I was cringing quietly on the inside. Screaming, even. I pictured the poor, sad, scared little child inside her who felt punished into action, probably not for the first time, when she could have been encouraged into writing instead. She could have been brought out through play. Through fun.
Instead, that little child was given an ultimatum—something out of, ironically, a child’s cartoon: cough up the results, or else.
I want to be very clear here that I understand deeply that feeling of knowing you cannot betray yourself one more time without also breaking yourself. I get it. I’ve been there, and I respect that moment so, so deeply. I respect this person’s need to make that decision down to the bottoms of my feet. I just wish, with equal depth, that she’d known she could choose a kinder way to achieve it.
The fact that Western, and particularly American, society sees this punitive approach as normal and to be praised is really only a sign of how acceptable it’s become to treat ourselves harshly. And why not? It’s modeled for us in movies and TV shows as “just how things work,” and we see it in far too many family and work dynamics. Heck, we’ve had several elections now where candidates spoke harshly to their own voters.
It’s also how things were done a hundred and fifty years ago, when Charles Dickens was writing about Ebenezer Scrooge and his visitation one night by three ghosts who showed him the error of his miserable ways. The whole thing is so painfully Industrial Revolution of us. I have to imagine that Dickens would be horrified to see that so little has changed since the days of his cautionary tale.
And if we stopped to think about it, so would we.
We live in an age where we’ve made great strides in understanding human behavior. Educators are much better trained in how to handle bullying than they were when I was subject to it as a child, and much less likely to tolerate it (though those who were not bullied still tend to take it less seriously than those who were). We have laws against hostile work environments (though they don’t go far enough).
But our standards of behavior still tell us that we’re expected to produce, like good little assembly line machines or work animals, and if we’re not being sufficiently productive, well, it’s time to apply the stick rather than the carrot.
How very like Ebenezer Scrooge.
A lot more parents and teachers these days seem to understand that there are better ways to engage with young minds (and older ones, at that). And yet, many of us still default to harsh tactics with ourselves.
Then we wonder why we’re stuck. What a coincidence!
As I’ve been teaching Make Bad Art, and working with 1:1 clients, it’s been remarkable to witness what happens when we give ourselves permission to stop judging ourselves all the time. To have fun. To throw out the rulebook that’s been keeping us miserable and stuck in favor of an approach that favors play, curiosity, and experimentation instead.
When you’re planning a course, you know which tools and techniques will work, and why, but it’s still something else entirely to see how they function in practice—and it’s always a bit different for each person, with a particular joy in the way it comes to life for them.
What’s the same across the board is the laughter, the excitement, and the discovery that yes! The person who thought she wasn’t creative actually really is! That you can make bad art in random moments of your day! That it doesn’t have to be hard or daunting—it can be fun and easy, and this bit of fun and ease over here will bring more fun and ease somewhere else. And the net result is that, without even realizing it’s happened, you wake up one day and realize you’re feeling lighter and having more fun than you were when you started.
I’ll bet you can feel that energy right now. And if I remind you of someone sitting down and forcing herself to produce writing, you immediately feel a very different energy.
I’ll also bet that the energy of forcing feels more cramped, and even painful, than the energy of having more fun. And that, if given the choice, you’d pick having more fun. (These are not terribly risky bets, I’ll admit.)
The thing is, you do have that choice. You’re allowed to buck the culture that tells you that you have to force yourself to create, and choose to let it be fun instead. You’re allowed to make bad art so you can make good art (in fact, you kind of have to do it that way if you want to make art at all).
You just have to remember that you have that choice, and choose the path that feels light and open, not the counterproductive path of self-punishment and trying too hard.
If this sounds like something you’d like not only to remember, but to make a part of your everyday consciousness, I invite you to check out the next session of Make Bad Art, which starts on January 20. It’s a great way to free yourself up from the multi-faceted forces of perfectionism that our culture tries to pour into us so you can start having more fun, not only in your creative projects, but in your whole life.
What a great way to start 2025!
If you have any questions about the course at all, don’t hesitate even a little bit to hit reply to this email and let me know. I’d love to answer them and help you see if the program is the right fit for you!
Quick FYI: My friend and fellow Kaizen-Muse coach Nina Hart is offering, for the first time, Writing from the Top of Your Head Facilitator Training, starting February 2.
The 4-month training certifies you to teach your own six-week Writing from the Top of Your Head workshops. This training is for anyone—writers, educators, or creatives—who wants to empower others while building something meaningful.
Curious to learn more? Email Nina at hello@ninahart.club