I Love Myself?
The Artist's Way, Week 1: self-intimacy, cockroaches and those fucking affirmations.
I’ve just finished the first week of The Artist’s Way. The book is not a just a creative self-help book, but also a workbook, which is why I’m so glad to have a group to do it with (thanks, Ali).
Some exercises went okay - writing morning pages, fine. I enjoy being encouraged to write crap, because that’s something I’m really good at. I also did most of the tasks: list your creativity monsters - those who have discouraged you. Not super fun, but done! I didn’t make new discoveries but it was nice to write out of spite - I’m really good at that.
A bit more challenging: take yourself on an artist date every week.
“An artist date is a block of time, perhaps two hours weekly, especially set aside and committed to nurturing your creative consciousness, your inner artist. […] You do not take anyone on this artist date but you and your inner artist, a.k.a. your creative child.”
Doing things alone? Great, love it. Although you don’t have to leave your house to do it, I figured if I didn’t start off with something like that, I would never leave my house, and that would limit things quite a bit. And I was not going to let social anxiety win on the first week!
Doing something special with ourselves every week is quite a commitment. Julia Cameron, the author of The Artist’s Way, frames it this way:
“Recognize this resistance as a fear of intimacy—self-intimacy.”
I wish she were talking about masturbation, because I’m really good at that. But artist’s dates have to be something you don’t normally do, so I went to the Canadian Museum of Nature instead.
Here are a few scientific facts I learned:
- a group of crows is a murder, a group of eagles is a convocation, and a group of children is extremely loud.
- a well fitted N95 mask will protect you from the judgement of adults when you giggle at the sight of a dinosaur or when you whisper “I love you” to a live tarantula.
- if two people are coming in the opposite direction, they will not move even if they’re taking up all the space walking side by side. They see you, you’re not rugby-player imposing but certainly not petite either, and still, those fuckers will. Not. move. An. inch. I can totally excuse parents with strollers and kids running around because those poor people look so exhausted they probably do not have a sense of where their body ends, where their children’s begin, and where the fuck is Julian he was here a second ago oh my god I thought we had lost you never do this again (he will do it again). But the other people? Come the fuck on. Share the road.
No bats were seen, which was a little bit disappointing. But I made other friends, and my favourite were: the tarantula, the skunk, all the little dogs (there’s an exhibit on wolves), the crows, the owls, the badger (no honey badger either, which was also a little disappointing), and whatever the guy below is. I had a headache even before going, so I did not read a single thing - just vibes.
Do you think it would be seen as unprofessional to use that picture in online work meetings every time I feel bamboozled?
I also really liked this guy, who grew a horn on his face to avoid being fucked with. Honestly, not a bad idea. If I did, maybe people would move out of my way?
Least favourite, hands down: the cockroaches. I know the way Natasha Lyonne pronounces that word is delightful, but those things are nightmare fuel. Although there was one stuck on its back and I did have the impulse to help the little buddy (I couldn’t, they were in a fully enclosed space, thank god).
On my way home, I managed to get lost for a little bit. Why didn’t I use Google Maps? I’m glad you asked, and the answer is: I did. I am that good.
Finally, another exercise is affirmations. It’s exactly what it sounds like — say positive things about yourself and your creative endeavours, which I am definitely not good at. Julia Cameron suggests picking the ones that seem the hardest, especially if they counteract your inner critic. Those went kind of okay the first few days - I cringed a little but did my best to be sincere. Then it went really poorly these past few days. I understand the notion of re-programming how we think of ourselves, but it did make me wonder: when are we projecting something we want to see become reality, and when are we being in complete denial? If for instance, I say into the ether, and this is, believe me, a completely hypothetical example, “I am loved” but you are, in fact, not loved: what does it say about you in that moment? How useful can such an affirmation be? Is being a delusional bastard supposed to make you more lovable somehow? Anyway, yeah, it went great and I didn’t spiral at all.
In conclusion: I’m not sure I would date this weirdo, but I’m willing to give myself another chance and go on another date. I wouldn’t call it love quite yet.
If you’re also doing or have done The Artist’s Way - with a group or alone - tell me: how do you feel about self-intimacy?