Stalling Out Creatively and Getting Started Again
a Good and Beautiful Things origin story and what's next
Dear Reader,
You may or may not have noticed that I’ve been on a break from writing this newsletter lately. It hasn’t been an intentional break, it just…happened.
Life happened, as it so often does.
The funny thing about breaks, purposeful or accidental, is that it can be hard to get back into the rhythm of the thing you stopped doing. Lately, when I sit down to write, I stall out, like a crusty, old car battery. When I look around for help I realize it’s up to me to jump-start my words again.
I’ve tried stern talks, bribery, shame and yet when I turn the key, the engine (my brain) sputters briefly and goes silent.
So I look for excuses. Is it because it’s summer? Summer is a weird season and our current household consists of four people, all in different stages of life, with different goals and daily rhythms. If we’re keeping with the car metaphor, this summer has felt like the first time I drove a stick shift. I told my friend I knew how to drive one but I really didn’t, so we jerked forward and backward all the way to our destination.
Or is it because my insomnia has been particularly bad and I’m usually beginning my day five hours behind?
The weird rhythm of summer and unhelpful sleep patterns might be contributing factors but there’s a loud, persistent part of me that says it’s time to get the engine running again, no matter the reason for stalling in the first place.
But first, a little maintenance.
For a tune-up I decided to go back to the beginning and remind myself why I started writing Good and Beautiful Things to begin with.
The Four C’s
When I got the idea of starting a newsletter back in December of 20221, I opened my sketchbook and began brainstorming what it would be about.
That year I was forty-five. I’d been married for twenty-three years and I had four children (two out of the house, two still at home). I was five years into a struggle with chronic pain and anxiety that had knocked my life completely off the tracks. The same circumstances had also propelled me into long overdue heart healing from the first forty years of life.
In my sketchbook, I wrote down four words that felt important to me and they all happened to start with “c”.
Courage
Fear had been my GPS for the first half of my life, guiding my decisions about everything from parenting to my health to trying out my creative gifts but I hadn’t been able to see it. When the health and anxiety crisis kicked in just before I turned forty, the fear lit up and suddenly it was all I could see. The Enneagram was rising in popularity at that time and my number (6) was all about anxiety. Soon enough I was tired of seeing myself only defined through the lens of fear.
Eventually I began to realize that to live in this world with anxiety actually requires a lot of courage. Maybe my defining characteristic was (and always had been) courage? Not fear?
Curiosity
Curiosity was becoming my new superpower, the best antidote I’d found to fear. Fear made my world smaller, it told me that there was only one possible outcome to any situation and it would always be the worse one. Curiosity enlarged my world by engaging my imagination, allowing me to entertain many possible outcomes. If fear made me stop and look for safety, curiosity was helping me find movement again.
Creativity
Creativity has been pumping through my veins since I was little. I’ve been writing since the fifth grade, I was a theater student in high school and college, and I learned photography and drawing in my thirties while I raised and homeschooled my kids. Creativity has always calmed the chaos, both in the world around me and in my own head. It kept me grounded when my life was flying off the hinges. And I’ve always been passionate about encouraging others to make space for their own creativity.
Connection
I entered my forties with a breaking body and a broken heart. I’d been hurt by people who supposedly loved me throughout my life and the pandemic was about to crush my closest friendships. My forties have been about reconnecting to my body and heart, redefining my connection to God, and learning to connect to others in a healthier way (requiring a lot of courage and curiosity, btw).
///
To write this newsletter, I knew I would draw from the only life I really knew—my own. I had stories to tell from when I was a young mom, from losing my Dad, from having a child with medical issues and from the more recent years of sending kids out into the world and getting to know my heart better.
I knew I wanted to share my art, something that hadn’t really been seen by anyone outside of my family.
I knew I wanted to strengthen my writing muscle by stretching it on a regular basis.
I knew I wanted to encourage others in courage, curiosity, creativity and connection.
I knew my faith was woven through all of this and would show up as needed but without forcing each post to feel “Christian” enough.
What’s in a Name
Scribbled across the brainstorming page are names for this newsletter that didn’t make the cut but the name that is circled is “Good and Beautiful Things”. When I chose the name I worried it would suggest I was all about toxic positivity, in denial of all things hard and ugly.
In my experience naming the “good and beautiful” doesn’t exclude the “hard and ugly”. Beauty can co-exist with the hard, time can turn something hard into something beautiful, and I’ll be the first to admit, sometimes hard is just…hard.
Did this name say any of that? I wasn’t sure but in the end I asked a friend or two and then went with my gut.
What’s Next
Back in 2022, my days were shapeless, defined mainly by keeping up with the needs of the kids still at home and managing my pain. Committing to the work of writing, editing and publishing each week brought a rhythm of creativity to my life. I had a reason to keep up with my art as well so I had something to include in this space. It calmed the chaos and it helped me learn about myself and trust myself more. It’s been a place to make connections and to encourage and be encouraged.
Now that I’m also teaching theater again, my creative energy has forked and I’m still figuring out the new rhythm for Good and Beautiful Things. Will it be every week? Twice a month? Once a month? I don’t know yet.
But for now, simply by pushing through the many drafts I’ve started and discarded over the last month and finally sending this out to you today, the battery is now charged and the vehicle is ready to go.
I hope you’ll be here for the next part of the road trip.
How is your summer going? Have you found your rhythm? Have any of your creative pursuits needed maintenance lately?
Continue the Journey
Blessings from the Guest Nest,
Aimee
P.S.—Thanks so much for reading! You can support the writing and art I share each week by donating to my art supply fund.
My friend Shannon and her newsletter were part of the inspiration back in 2022. We also both wrote blogs back in the day…
So glad to read your words again. In the monastic life ordered around praying the hours, it’s said that when the bells ring, it’s an invitation to begin again. The bells are ringing for whatever new rhythm awaits. 💜
I loved reading your origin story, Aimee. Thank you for sharing it, and now that I’m back from a three week trip, it’s time to get into a writing rhythm again!