The last time I journaled was June 25th. The last time I sent out a newsletter was July 8th. The last time I posted on my blog was July 9th. That’s at least five weeks away from what I define as work—my regular practices for creating. (Do I regret that? No. I feel blessed to have a new home, moving into a dream house with my dream family, and having gotten to a place–mentally and environmentally–of being settled.)

If you’ve read my past newsletters or my blog, you’ve probably noticed that a theme in my life is always having to begin again with my creativity, art, and music-making. It certainly doesn’t embody the typical advice to creators—podcasters, independent writers, YouTubers, musicians—to be consistent above all else. But it is my energy and way of being. Clearly. And, I know I’m not alone in having this creative/productive rhythm.

Is it something I can change? Well, I can always work with it, but it does seem like I have to work with it, not work against it. At 51, I can certainly get new habits, routines, and rituals. I want that. But at the same time, to maintain sanity and a positive outlook, I also need to embrace my own energy and way of being. Rejecting my rhythms isn’t likely to feel good or work out well.

Even writing about this brings up resistance. There’s a voice that says I should be writing something more productive, something I can easily share with others. But maybe there’s value in exploring these patterns openly. What would it be like to acknowledge the amount of resistance many of us have to creating, making, producing? Perhaps being more open about these common creative struggles could be liberating rather than limiting.

While I’ve been on hiatus the past five weeks, I have been listening to audiobooks and podcasts while packing, moving, cleaning, unpacking, assembling, etc., as well as thinking about how to tap into creativity, play, and improvisation more—doing so largely through approaches and practices from Buddhism and Taoism.

I haven’t tallied what books I’ve read the past month-plus until just now. This is what I think I consumed in the past five weeks (definitely not in order, and it’s a good chance I’m forgetting things):

Books:

​ • Flowing Zen: Finding True Healing with Qigong by Anthony Korahais

​ • Buddhism Without Beliefs: A Contemporary Guide to Awakening by Stephen Batchelor

​ • Confession of a Buddhist Atheist by Stephen Batchelor

​ • Secular Buddhism: Imagining the Dharma in an Uncertain World by Stephen Batchelor

​ • Effortless Mastery: Liberating the Master Musician Within by Kenny Werner

​ • Becoming the Instrument: Lessons on Self-Mastery from Music to Life by Kenny Werner (started)

​ • Free Play: Improvisation in Life and Art by Stephen Nachmanovitch

​ • The Art of Is: Improvising as a Way of Life by Stephen Nachmanovitch

​ • Spontaneous Creativity: Meditations for Manifesting Your Positive Qualities by Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche

​ • Creative Confidence and Music Production: Overcome Your Insecurities by Lina Turtonen (started)

​ • Creativity, Spirituality, and Making a Buck by David Nichtern

Podcasts:

• ​ 10% Happier by Dan Harris
  • How (and Why) to Hug Your Inner Dragons
  • Buddhism Without Beliefs
  • Bill Hader on Anxiety, Imposter Syndrome, and Leaning Into Discomfort
  • Stop Caring About What Other People Think About You
  • Mayim Bialik on Anxiety, Imagination, and Manifestation
• Every episode of Kening Zhu‘s podcast Botanical Studies of Internet Magic
• “No one cares, so why try? — Making Art Without an Audience (yet)”, I Was Just Thinking Podcast by Lina Turtonen

Dang! And that’s not counting all the various newsletters I get (though I limited my reading a lot the past five weeks).

Can you spot a theme in my media consumption? Has it helped? Yes! Yes? Yes. While part of the theme is a bit recent—bringing in creativity, art, music, play, and imagination — I have consistently consumed material on philosophy, psychology, and spirituality for the past 25 years. The very first book I recall reading in those areas is Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind by Shunryu Suzuki. So, while Buddhism has not been a super frequent reading/listening topic in my intervening 23 years, it was foundational, or at least I’ve come full circle.

Was all that consumption about spirituality and creativity productive? (Because, you know, productivity and making some contribution is what matters in our society—or at least that’s what I keep trying not to tell myself.) Absolutely. I used that information and the thinking that it inspired to create a workshop that I facilitated at the Recreational Psychoacoustics Lab last week. I called the workshop “Practice Creativity and Produce Music with More Ease.”

Besides my contribution, the three strongest influences on the workshop’s content were Stephen Batchelor’s secular Buddhism writings (particularly his secular interpretations of Buddhism’s four noble truths and eightfold path), Kenny Werner’s book “Effortless Mastery: Liberating the Master Musician Within” (particularly how he draws on Buddhism and Taoism), and Alex Joyal’s Workflow Wizardry approach to music production (particularly his focus on mindsets/mental states for different types of creative work and task-based organization).

I’m excited and proud about what I put together. I hope it becomes more—not sure what or how. The workshop itself didn’t attract any attendees interested in the content. But it was another opportunity for me to process the information and my thoughts about it. I’m sure I’ll keep developing the ideas and maybe find folks interested in those ideas, too.

But, here’s what I’m learning about my creative process: it involves periods of intense consumption followed by synthesis and creation, then rest, then beginning again. It’s not the steady-state productivity that gets celebrated in creator culture, but it’s authentically mine. The evidence suggests I shouldn’t expect too much to be different in my remaining decades.

Rather than fighting this rhythm, I’m exploring how to work with it. Maybe consistency isn’t about daily or weekly output but about consistently returning to the work. Begin again. Create again. The “beginning again” isn’t a bug but a feature—a way of approaching creativity with fresh eyes and renewed energy.

The spiritual and philosophical approaches I study support this view. They emphasize presence, acceptance of what is, and working with our natural tendencies rather than forcing ourselves into prescribed molds. At 51, I can certainly develop new habits and routines, and rituals. I want that. But I also need to embrace my own energy and way of being.

I am not specifically searching for answers about how to optimize this creative rhythm, but I’m committed to the exploration. I’m treating this more as a Zen koan–a paradox or enigma to contemplate to stay open, present, intuitive, and avoid binary thinking. And I do know that rejecting my natural patterns creates more resistance than results.

If you’re someone who also struggles with the “consistency above all else” mandate, maybe there’s another way. Maybe your creative rhythm is different, too, and that’s not something to fix but something to understand and work with. Maybe we can find ways to honor our authentic creative processes while still developing sustainable practices.

After all, the goal isn’t to become a different kind of artist (regardless of your artistry)—it’s to become the best version of the artist you already are.

What’s your natural creative rhythm? I’d love to hear about it.