A blip in inspiration.
When did it last happen to you?
I have a notebook full of blog post ideas.
Most are ideas I’d love to write about.
But, recently, somehow, I couldn’t quite get myself to start writing.
Know the feeling?
When I lack inspiration to write, my first call is to review my creative input. What am I reading? What am I listening to?
An output problem is often an input problem, as Austin Kleon suggests.
But it’s not always that simple …
This time, I was ignoring my inner voice
A month or so ago, I listened to an old interview with the late John O’Donohue, an Irish poet and philosopher.
The conversation was about beauty as well as inner and outer landscapes.
I had listened to the conversation before. But this time, I heard an idea that kept humming around in my mind:
(…) there is a place in you where you have never been wounded, where there is still a sureness in you, where there’s a seamlessness in you, and where there is a confidence and tranquility in you.
Isn’t that reassuring?
No matter how wounded we feel, how much pain we endure, there’s always a place in us that’s untouched, unblemished.
I imagined that untouched place as a shy part of my soul. It doesn’t shout; it whispers. It doesn’t show off; it hides.
I wondered whether this is the part of me that’s still able to look at the world with a childlike wonder. The part in me that’s open-minded. The part that encourages me to follow my curiosity.
Is it where my inner voice resides? The voice that whispers what really matters to me?
Our inner voices often get drowned out …
The world is so noisy.
And we’re so busy.
In the past, at school, teachers told us what’s important. They presented reading lists. They told us what to pay attention to and why certain works of literature were so good.
Now, we listen to influencers, our peers, or perhaps family members. Algorithms tell us which books and articles to read, which videos to watch, which podcasts to listen to, and who to follow on social media.
When do we allow ourselves to ignore all those voices? When do we pick up the courage to rewild our attention and read something that’s not on the must-read lists?
When do we encourage ourselves to follow our own hunches, to explore, and discover what interests us?
Give yourself permission to explore
Until illness forced me to slow down a few years ago, I wasn’t listening to my inner voice. I was too busy to tick off items on my to-do list, to keep up with my peers, and to climb the career ladder.
Slowing down made me realize how carefully I have to listen to hear my inner voice, to know what hunches to follow.
Slowing down also helped me learn how to coax my inner critic who prefers the seemingly safer route of following other people’s suggestions.
Verlyn Klinkenborg teaches creative writing at Yale University. He suggests we give ourselves permission to just notice what we notice. We don’t need someone else’s permission:
What if you pay attention to the pattern of the way you notice the world around you? What if you pay attention to the perceptions that you have and the character of them, and trust their validity?
When you notice something, when something piques your interest, your inner voice tells you to pay attention. Will you listen?
We’re often told to follow our passion
But passion isn’t always available.
Passion is a bright fire that can burn out.
And what then?
Curiosity is more sustainable. Elizabeth Gilbert suggests curiosity is “our friend that teaches us how to become ourselves:”
(…) curiosity is an impulse that just taps you on the shoulder very lightly, and invites you to turn your head a quarter of an inch and look a little closer at something that has intrigued you.
Are you paying attention when curiosity taps you on your shoulder?
Or are the hints drowned out by busyness and fear?
I feel like I’ve been extraordinarily lucky
Somehow, when I quit my job, I just followed my curiosity because I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t know what I was passionate about.
I learned how to write because good writing fascinated me. I shared what I was learning, and, slowly, I gained an audience who was interested in what I wrote.
But maybe that’s just how it works?
When you follow your curiosity, you write with enthusiasm about your discoveries, and then there’ll be others who’re interested, too.
Enthusiasm is contagious.
Of course, if you’re writing for clients, you can’t always write about what you like.
And if you write for your own business, there’s the need to fulfill your audience’s needs, to write the articles that gain likes, comments, and shares.
But while that may make good business sense in the short term, it doesn’t always make good creative sense.
We need to find a balance. Sometimes, we have to ignore the algorithms, and write what our inner voice tells us to write—to follow our curiosity, play with ideas, travel along barely visible paths, and discover new perspectives.
That’s how we stay inspired and productive.
The one thing I’ve learned
My inner voice knows how to keep my creative soul happy.
I just have to listen, and then grant myself permission to follow my inner voice, to follow my curiosity.
That’s how I got to writing this post.
When I felt resistance to picking up the next idea from my list with blog ideas, I realized I wanted to write something different first.
My inner voice had been telling me all along.
Why do you think that quote from John O’Donohue kept humming around in my mind?
Happy writing, my friend. I already feel excited about writing my next post 🙂
Recommended reading on curiosity, inspiration, and creativity:
3 creative habits that’ll make you more inspired and prolific all year
How reading feeds my writing habit
How to be creative without sacrificing your productivity
Henneke,
It’s rare to find content that makes my soul go, ‘Bingo’, but you managed to do just that with this outstanding post.
When I read your writing I feel like I’m standing on the shoulder of giants, with an unshakable foundation and the vision to see beyond the noise.
Thank you for such an intimate and moving post, and to everyone here that for commenting.
P.S. I’m subscribed to the EM blog writing course and it has been envigorating. I think it the world of it. Excellent work.
Thank you so much for your lovely comment, Sunny. I’m glad you enjoyed this post and that you find my blog writing course invigorating. Happy blogging!
Obviously, Henneke
¡Your Third Open Eye!
I’m not sure about third open eye. I think I feel more comfortable with the phrase inner voice or perhaps intuition or gut feeling. But I guess it’s all the same or at least similar.
Really like your writing Henneke! Thank you for sharing your Enthusiasm.
Thank you, Joky. Happy writing!
Great post! I read the “rewild” article — fascinating! Thank you so much for your insight.
Rewilding our attention is such a great concept, isn’t it? I’m glad you enjoyed that article by Clive Thompson, too.
Hi I read one of your blog posts about teacher who was quoted in the book the Art of Noticing. What was it that she recommended her students do daily. I thought I saved the posts but I can’t find it and it’s bothering me because I want to incorporate her teachings as a daily habit. Please help. Also, thank you for your newsletter. It’s a gift!
Thank you for your compliment on my newsletter, Pat. I wrote about the art of noticing here: https://www.enchantingmarketing.com/art-of-noticing/
The poetry teacher I quote is Marie Howe. I quoted from an interview with her on the On Being podcast: https://onbeing.org/programs/marie-howe-the-power-of-words-to-save-us-may2017/ (I also quoted from the Art of Noticing by Rob Walker in the same blog post).
Beautiful quote. Thank you. Inspirational ideas
Thank you, Sarah. I’m glad you found the quote inspirational, too.
You are always an inspiration. Thanks.
Thank you, Rolf 🙂
Dear Henneke,
I just read your blog post, twice. I loved how you talked about your inner-voice and how it can get drowned out in such a noisy and busy world. It sounds like it can be so subtle and difficult to hear, but so powerful when we slow down to listen.
I also loved Elizabeth Gilbert’s quote about curiosity being our friend who teaches us how to become ourselves.
Thank you for this post. Amidst all of the noise out there, it felt like a peaceful lake, both comforting and inspiring.
What a lovely compliment, Marta. Thank you so much. I think your conclusion is spot on … My inner voice is subtle and difficult to hear (it only whispers) but when I slow down and make an effort, that voice is surprisingly powerful.
Hi Henneke,
Please excuse my bad English,
thank you so much for your email.
You are right!
Yesterday was a very bad day, one of that one would be completely disaggregated into subatomic elements to find peace.
At the end of the day, a phone request by a potentially customer for a never explored solution, turned me on.
My curiosity, my natural attitude to discover new application for my on-demand furniture shutters, were stimulated and made me happy.
Thank you for your post!
I’ve slept only few hours, problems don’t disappear, but reading your post gives me the hope I need to try another time, in another way.
Thank you for your support. I know I’m far away to find the right path, but I’m sure that I need to learn from you.
Have a nice live!
Thanks so much for taking the time to stop by and share your story, Claudio. I much appreciate it (and your English is fine!).
Your path may feel unclear but when you follow your curiosity, I believe you’ll find it. It may not be clear at first and the journey may have many bends and turns, but step by step, you’ll get there. I’ve never had much visibility beyond the next step. I take that one step and then see where the path leads to next. It’s like exploring the woods in the dark with just a torchlight. You can not see too far ahead!
I love this, Henneke. I really needed this part:
But maybe that’s just how it works?
When you follow your curiosity, you write with enthusiasm about your discoveries, and then there’ll be others who’re interested, too.
I’ve really come to think that we do not stress this enough—it goes against my marketing education to follow your curiosity.
Of course, we need to write for our audience, too. But if we ignore our own interests, our enthusiasm for writing will peter out. And readers will notice that in our blog posts. The best non-fiction writing I’ve read this year are all books by people who followed their curiosity and share their enthusiasm.
Happy writing, Ella. And thank you for stopping by!
Hi Henneke,
Thank you for your blog post. I too resonated with ‘following my curiosity’ after reading some of Elizabeth Gilbert’s posts.
This morning I was reading about how words in different languages describe intangible emotions. I thought you would be interested in this article by BBC. Here is the link, https://getpocket.com/explore/item/the-untranslatable-emotions-you-never-knew-you-had?utm_source=pocket-newtab
Take care,
Diana
That’s a lovely article. Thank you for sharing, Diana. Being Dutch, I am a fan of “uitwaaien.” I see it as going for a walk to let the cobwebs blow away.
Henneke,
This post is pure gold. Thank you for writing it and for working on your craft in a way that brings these gems to the rest of us. Inspired! I hope you never stop writing.
I also hope I’ll never stop writing. Writing has given me so much joy.
I appreciate your lovely comment, Suzanne. Thank you.
I can relate to this Henneke. It’s a good share. Love the visual, “curiosity taps you on the shoulder…”
I love that imagery, too. Such a wonderful quote from Elizabeth Gilbert.
Dear Henneke,
I love reading what you write, and your darling illustrations make me smile.
Thank you for sharing your creative and always encouraging gift.
Jan Maitland
I feel lucky to share my writing with kind and generous people like you. I appreciate your comment, Jan. Thank you.
Henneke, I was reading through tears, here. This is so right.
“We don’t need someone else’s permission”
I’m not sure which year of my high school learning it was, but I know I was in my mid-teens, when we had the most amazing English teacher we’d ever encountered. We’d just finished a long unit on poetry and had studied some good ones, current and past. It was during a test of the unit. I had loved this teacher and when I turned the page to the last question on the test, I was shocked:
“What is a poem?” The paper left a half page for the essay-form answer. I was completely unprepared for such a question and racked my brain for anything we’d studied that included the answer. I came up with nothing and felt the question unfair. Really: What on earth IS a poem, anyway?
Irritated, I wrote only one sentence, since I was sure I had missed that portion of the unit and would fail the test, so why exert myself, right?
I wrote: “A poet cries and his teardrops are a poem.” I wrote it with defiance and not with hope for the good grade. Then I turned in my test and left, not sure if I should be angry with the teacher I loved, or with myself for not studying hard enough.
Imagine my absolute shock on arriving in class the next day, to find my answer posted on the blackboard instead of the usual quote-of-the-day! She had not attributed it, but asked permission from me, before adding my name to the post. How much more I loved her, right that moment!
And that moment is the place within me that is still not wounded but has been fighting (and often giving up) to survive the algorithms and computer-critiquing that is so pushy, in these days.
Fighting, yes, and you have shown me it’s still alive.
Thanks, so much.
What a wonderful story. You were already a poet in your mid-teens!
And yes, I’m sure that inner child or inner poet or inner voice, whatever you want to call her, is still very much alive.
Thanks so much for sharing your story, Katharine.
The thanks goes to you, Henneke, for helping me see what has been wrong in writing, and giving me the “permission” that I didn’t need, to be what I am, regardless of what “they” say.
I think I shall write a very bad piece, just to celebrate. Haha! Who knows—it might turn out really good. 🙂
Such an important message for us all. The world is indeed noisy.
My goal as a writer and coach is to help women Living Above the Noise – but I find I am the one who needs to heed my own advice!
Thanks again, Henneke!
Ha yes! I also know that feeling about needing to heed my own advice 😉
I’m coming around after taking an extended break following the death of my beloved father. I just haven’t been able to get motivated to do more than the occasional blog post. No magazine articles, no studying for my transcriptionist course, I just prefer reading right now. However, it dawned on me this morning that I could blog about the interesting things I read about every day, and that could get me back on track if I let it. I’m thankful for your advice and enjoy reading your newsletters (or whatever you call your posts.) 🤗
I’m so sorry about the loss of your father. Of course, grief or depression or illness can all block our creativity, too, and sometimes we just need to take a break and find a way to recover. Sending much love ❤️
How nice that you wrote a post for me, this week 😉
That unblemished part of you is a beautiful image. Images help.
I wrote it for you but also for me! 😉
Five entries in my commonplace book from just one article… a new record. One is yours, the two sentences about enthusiasm. (Nice use of the contraction there’ll. Don’t believe I’ve ever used it, but you made it work.) Thanks for writing your posts with so much care.
What an honor! Thank you for sharing, Jack, and I’m delighted you enjoyed the quotes in this article.
Wonderful post. I think an element of guilt tends to creep in when we think of doing something creative because we feel we should be *working*. Finding the place where both creativity and work can happily exist together helps us hang on to the wonder that attracted us to the work in the first place.
Yes, so true … finding that place where creativity and work can happily exist together can be hard. I think it’s partly because we feel that we should be productive, and creativity isn’t always productive. When you start creating something new, you don’t always know where it ends up (and whether it’ll work) and that goes completely against the productivity mantra. I didn’t know exactly where this post would end up. I started somewhere, and it found its shape over several days. Thank you for stopping by, Kathy. I much appreciate it!
“grant myself permission to follow my inner voice.” Those were the keywords that showed me to see a different dimension of my inner self.
Great! It took me a while to get there.
Henneke, I loved this piece and especially the quote from John O’Donohue, ” – there is a place in you where you have never been wounded, where there is still a sureness in you, where there’s a seamlessness in you, and where there is a confidence and tranquility in you.”
That is one that will stay with me! Thanks
It’s such a powerful thought, isn’t it? I keep returning to it again and again.
Just what I needed when I needed it. Something that needs to be said, and heard, again and again.
Thank you, Wally. Me, too, I think. I also wrote this a bit for myself.
Hi Henneke,
I love your quote “Enthusiasm is contagious.” I find that when I go for long walks. I get more curious about the world around me and come up with all sorts of ideas. Then, once I write one from the idea, I get into all the promoting and then get writer’s block for the next post. Slowing down what we do can inspire us to be more creative and think deeper. Thanks for making me see that Henneke.
Thank you for sharing your experience, Lisa. Walking is good for thinking and getting ideas, too!