One of the most important things that we can do as Creatives is acknowledge endings; both emotionally and analytically. Learn from them and plan for them, like any phase of a project.
July is hard.
It is the month that my dad passed away. Always lurking in the heat and humidity towards
the end of the month is an undercurrent of loss.
This emotion comes on the heels of the close of the summer 1
semester of my Emerson course Creative Thinking and Problem Solving. It is six exhilarating weeks of teaching my
passion, of nurturing creativity and seeing the incredible results, connections
and breakthroughs that happen in that short and vivid timeframe.
The ending of the semester is always bittersweet. I wrap up the class feeling more-than-ready
to return to a less-hectic schedule and to my own ideas; which have been
waiting impatiently for me on the proverbial “back burner.” I also know, though, that I will miss the students, their sharing
and ideas and the community of the class.
When I teach, I feel lit from within.
I feel purposeful and helpful. Every
semester, I am humbled by where the students take the content of the course
lessons, each other’s sharing and my encouragement. They take risks and they work extremely hard.
The last evening of the semester, I pack up the remnants of
the final class. I turn off the audio/visual
system and lights, and to the hum of the screen automatically rolling up and
projector powering down, I leave the semester tired and deeply inspired by the
students. In the days that follow, I am astounded by the spaciousness
of my schedule and, sometimes, my own mind.
I go for walks and think about my writing, what I want to make for
dinner, or sometimes just listen to the sounds around me. I don’t problem solve or create new class
exercises, timing, material or mentally list things that need to be
communicated. There is room for other
things in my mind and that space is welcome.
But it comes with a caveat.
After weeks of purpose, I suddenly find myself adrift. There is a sense of emptiness and of
loneliness in the abundance of hours. I commiserate
with poet William Wordsworth when he said, “I wandered lonely as a cloud.”
In a previous post I have called this,“the post-semester funk.” Another name that I have stumbled
across, for what I am usually feeling post-semester, is the “Post-Show Blues.” While class is a creative endeavor for me,
the truth is that it is also a Production.
In the true sense of the theatrical version of the word. Throughout the course, the students are my
creative collaborators, my stage family.
Blogger, actor and director Kerry Hishon, writes about “The Post-Show Blues” and provides some smart suggestions for what to do in the weeks after a play has closed. These apply to many a creative endeavor,
especially ones that require great expenditures of extroverted energy. Resonating with me is the recommendation to reconnect
with family and friends. As a natural introvert,
during the intensity of the summer semester, teaching is about the only social
activity I can handle. In the last week
of class, I make sure to reach out to remind friends that I am still alive and
would love to see them once the final trappings of grades and comments are
truly “in the bag.”
The end of a passion driven endeavor or a project can be a strange, sometimes energizing or even difficult time for any creative. Endings exist. Sometimes they are welcome and sometimes they feel inevitable.
One of the most important things that we can do as creatives is acknowledge endings; both emotionally and analytically. Learn from them and plan for them, like any phase of a project.
I have found the following tactics helpful when coming to
the conclusion of a project or creative endeavor:
- Create an Ending (or Transition) Ritual: Typically this takes the form of celebration (the importance of which I can’t emphasize enough) but it is important to think beyond the cast party or dinner out with friends. My end of class ritual takes place in the form of cleaning my office. I refile all the course material in my Big Binder (shown in the third photo, top pocket. That is Jim Henson on the cover during the making of Time Piece. He is one of my creative heroes), re-shelve my creative thinking books, and place all the remaining class documents and ephemera from the semester in a manila envelope which is labeled and filed in a special storage bin. This past weekend, in addition to deep cleaning my office (which is the old butler’s pantry in our apartment) I made the compulsive decision to update the paint from pale yellow to a vivid, sophisticated and saturated peacock blue from Behr called Caribe. Even without the redecorating, a clean office never fails to help me transition and refocus.
- Schedule Things in Advance: Let’s be honest. When you are in the depths of a project things tend to fall by the wayside. From unreturned email to unpolished nails, it is important to make sure to plan time to play catch up (and relax). Unfinished tasks can take up a huge amount of mental energy. Help free yourself up for your next endeavor by, as author Todd Henry calls it in his book Die Empty, “closing the loop.”
- Acknowledge the Emotions: If you haven’t figured out by now, I love poetry. There are two poems in particular that work as mantras for reminding me of the challenges and emotions that come up at the end of a project. Margaret Atwood’s poem “You Come Back” from her book Morning in the Burned House, like Wordsworth’s lonely cloud, sum up the discombobulation of rejoining the world after a creative project is complete. The lines run through my mind and remind me of the phase I am in: “You come back into the room/ where you’ve been living/ all along. You say: What’s been going on/ while I was away?…” Other times, I just walk and say, “I wandered lonely as a cloud.” (Or as Louise Rennison’s brilliant character Georgia Nicolson would say, “I wandered lonely as a clud.” Which always cheers me up when I think of it.)
- Create a Wish List: During the dark days of a busy project period, I like to create a wish list of all the things I wish I was doing right at that moment, but which I know have to wait. This gives me something to look forward to as well as serves as a great tool for referencing and inspiring me to have fun when I am “wandering” like said cloud above.
- Do a Postmortem: Ed Catmull writes of Pixar’s smart postmortem process of mixing data and insights to learn the five things that the film team felt went well and the five things they would do differently. All throughout the Creative Thinking semester, I have my students list three things they would do again and three things that they would do differently for every project. I use this same tool myself. In fact, I have been known to do postmortems during the T ride home after each class. Most importantly though, I do it for the semester and then tuck it into The Big Binder where I am delighted to find it when I begin prepping for the fall semester. (Thank you Past-Self!)
The most important thing about endings is that they are really
beginnings. Beginnings are tender and
messy. Sometimes uncertain. Take the time to appreciate what you’ve
accomplished and where you are. Know
that the creative process, like life, is a cycle. Make the most of this phase and you’ll grow
outward and upward like the rings of a nautilus shell. That’s my vision of true creative progress.
What are some of your tactics for transitioning after a project has ended? Please share in the comments below. It is always good to have an arsenal of tools to draw upon.
PS. I think it is worth noting the final stanza here of
William Wordsworth’s “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” which, like the image of
the daffodils in the poet’s imagination, makes me appreciate the splendor of the
semester:
For oft, when on my
couch I lie
In vacant or in
pensive mood,
They flash upon
that inward eye
Which is the bliss
of solitude;
And then my heart
with pleasure fills,
And dances with the
daffodils.
