Creativity is a heart-centered practice, not a practice of perfection.
It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep. My mind is flooded with things to take care of and a backlog of intuition that hasn’t been given the quiet space to pass through. After tossing and turning for a while, I quietly creep out of bed and head to the living room to funnel everything out of my brain and onto the page to find some relief. I refuse to look at the clock as I know it will only provoke anxiety about the full docket that I have for the next day.
I sit on the couch in the dimly lit room. The solitude, soft glow from the salt lamp, and the sound of trickling water from the cat drinking fountain let me pretend for just a moment that I’m in the spa.
I settle down a bit, and I start by writing down the tasks and reminders that kept my mind reeling. There is no need for flow here. Just straight-up organization. Scheduling, check. To-do list, check. Work timeline, check.
As I feel a bit more relaxed, I shift gears to work on the right-brain activities, like creative writing, but I can’t help but notice that I am approaching the writing with the same energy as I did with my tasks and reminders. I can feel the deep drive to get it done, do it right, and make it perfect, and that is the very trifecta that will stifle my creative flow.
I struggle for a bit trying to think and perfect the words out of my brain, rather than let them flow, but I have no luck. feel frustrated because I know my intuition wants to join this late-night event. It has ideas to share, but I’ve made no accommodations for it. I continue to try to use my brain as the springboard for my creativity only to find that it is a solid, unyielding platform with no give. I see how the force of my perfectionism is not bouncy, flexible, or fun at all, but more like a drill sergeant that I’m low-key afraid of.
Eventually, I realize that there is no point in arguing with my perfectionistic tendencies, so I know I need to source my creativity from a different place.
In the dark, quiet of the room, I take a deep breath. I feel the gentle nudge from the space to try again. I reach an agreement between my mind and my body, and I find a new place to work from—a place that has nothing to do with getting it done, doing it right, or making it good. I take a deep breath and let go of any ideas of completion or rules and let the writing be what it wants to be. Suddenly, there is a new trifecta to work from.
I am now in the pocket and in the flow. My intuition leads the way, and the words fly onto the page. I fully let go of outcomes because when the heart speaks, it speaks clearer, louder, and more authentically than anything that my mind ever could produce. The words flow, the ideas come, and I finally feel completely relaxed.
There are just some things that perfection can’t co-mingle with, and creativity is one of them. When we attempt to create with the hopes of perfection, we rob ourselves of the flow state that funds and fuels our creativity. When we put parameters, guidelines, and rules on something that is free-flowing and formless, we lose its powerful energy in trying to contain it.
Ironically, if we keep perfectionism out of our creative process, then we stand a chance to see it in the result of its pure efforts. Perfection can be the product, sum, and the result after the equal sign but never part of the equation itself.
Perfection has its place, yes, but when it comes to accessing our creativity, we need to step away from it and choose a different place to work from: the heart. Creativity born from the heart oozes with purpose, meaning, and joy. It is an endless resource for us to draw upon that is abundant and free. The best part of creating from the heart is we can fully trust the process. We can be confident that what we create is a true reflection of who we are. Authentically worthy.
Hi, I’m Sara Rose.
Explore my blog to uncover the extraordinary transformations hidden in everyday moments.
