The weather in London has been quite mercurial in recent weeks with highs ranging from 64 (17C) to 90 (32C). With last week's heat wave fresh in my mind, as I rambled through Victoria Park this morning I was surprised to discover that autumn is actually upon us.
This changing of seasons is inspiring me to revisit a seasonal approach to creativity.
We live in a culture where a static or linear narrative is the norm. Applied to creativity it looks like hunting for the right routines. A belief that if only I can find the right habits and stick to them, then my creativity will be constant. The internet abounds with information on the daily rituals of artists and writers and other creative routines.
But to me, the quest for the perfect approach to creativity feels a bit quixotic. I personally find much more freedom with a cyclical, seasonal approach and its inherent variety and dynamism.
So what are the seasons of creativity? Here’s my take:
Spring is a season of inspiration.
That rush of excitement when you encounter a new idea. Spring is a time for dreaming big. For wondering what if. For playing with possibility. You may feel infatuated with your idea, falling head over heels in love. This season is about enjoying the energy of enthusiasm. Exuberance. Ebullience. Spring creativity calls for amplification of your idea by drinking deeply from wells of inspiration but also for protecting the idea. Just as a seedling may be better off in the greenhouse until it grows robust enough to face a frost, your nascent idea may be better kept close to your chest before it's exposed to premature judgement from others.
Summer is a season of implementation.
The season of summer is about making the commitment to a specific incarnation of your creative idea. It's about taking action and gathering the resources you need to turn your dream into reality. Lots of energy. Long days. Focus. Discipline. Momentum. The satisfaction of immersing yourself in the work of building something out of nothing.
Autumn is a season of iteration.
Now that you’ve birthed your first draft, it’s time to get down to the meticulous work of editing and pruning. Separating the wheat from the chaff. It includes the sometimes/often painful process of soliciting and integrating feedback. Here the work is to distill your creation down to its essence. To trim the fat. Kill your darlings. Simplify. Polish, refine and add the finishing touches. A time for harvest, sharing, thanksgiving and celebration. Coming to completion and launching your creative output into the world.
Winter is a season of integration.
Winter creativity is about taking time for rest and reflection. Reviewing the experience and deciding what went well and what you want to do differently next time. A chance to recharge. Find ways to fill the well. To nourish your creative spirit. To come home to your creative self. Some hiding and hibernation may be called for. Maybe even some creative comfort food. It may look like nothing is happening. But below the surface you are rooting down deeper, accessing new layers of nutrients.
But what's so great about seasonal approach to creativity?
First, it helps us trust that every season is temporary. We don't need to make the seasons change. They will change on their own in their own time. For example, after the adrenaline rush of launching a creative output is over, it's common to feel a sense of deflation or letdown, what some call an "achievement hangover". Before, I used to treat that feeling as a problem to solve. What's wrong with me? Snap out of it! But now I see it as a natural progression from autumn to winter. From a seasonal lens it makes total sense that after the exertion of putting so much of ourselves, so much of our life energy into something, that we need to come back into balance with a period of rest and recovery. Of "doing nothing".
Before, in seasons of creative winter I would wonder if I'd lost my creativity completely. Where had it gone? Would I ever get it back? Now, I know that what appears dead is often just dormant, and I can have faith that spring will return eventually without having to do anything other than wait.
It's also helpful to notice if you have a preference for or against a specific season. I love springtime creativity. For a long time it was hard for me to transition into summer. I would get infatuated with an idea but lose interest when it came time to actually commit. I've also struggled getting stuck in autumn, refining and tinkering and tweaking. What's unlocked the flow for me is to appreciate the beauty of each season. How good it feels to commit to something in summer and see it start to take shape. Or how good it feels to be done with something and feel space opening up for something new. So find your version of watermelon sharbat, spiced cider or peppermint hot chocolate to tempt you into the next season if you're feeling stuck.
Finally, a seasonal approach helps me to filter creativity advice. I find a lot of suggestions people offer for creativity are season-specific. If I'm in the editing mindset of autumn, it may not be helpful to force myself to sit and freewrite for 20-minutes a day whereas that may be just what I need to focus the frenetic energy of spring.
Another insight I had is that previously, I saw these seasons as progressing in a very specific cycle. But I recently realized that just as we (at least in London) can have chilly days in June and scorching days in September, it's possible to have a wintery day where I need some introverted rest time even if my creativity is overall in a season of summer or spring or autumn. My task is to toggle between the seasons as they show up. As Austin Kleon has observed:
"Creative work has seasons. Part of the work is to know which season it is, and act accordingly." — Austin Kleon
We can either align with the spirit of the season, or we can waste energy fighting against it. May you find creative flow and ease as you honor the shifting seasons of your creativity.