Creative Block? Move this First

Upgrade your energy and get back in flow.

Julia Novak
The Ninja Writers Pub

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Photo by Ashkan Forouzani on Unsplash

There’s nothing worse than knowing what you want and not going after it. Knowing what to do and not doing it. Watching yourself give up things and then making excuses as to why.

We’ve all been there. Not creating because of the usual blocks: a drought of ideas, perfectionism, waning confidence, imagination overload, or the time-suck of daily life.

For me, believing I had no time or energy to write trapped me.

Creativity seemed like the only way out of a dark place after three grueling years keeping my chronically ill daughter alive. Like I had to write to get my life back.

For months a new blog and book idea pushed at the back of my mind. Words flooded me in the shower. Paragraphs flowed in my head at odd times but never made it to the page.

The problem was, I couldn’t write until I took back my life.

That’s a lot of pressure. It leaves you stuck in the middle, trying to do and getting nothing done.

My sporadic blog posts and quarterly newsletters to clients dwindled to nothing. The blog and book idea faded like the sun-bleached giant sticky note on the wall where I excitedly brought them to life months before.

In the mental fog of over-giving, I’d forgotten to use the most powerful thing I know to shift experience. I use it all the time for others but left myself out of the loop.

Twenty years of diagnosing and healing energy in people and places has shown me the fascinating ways our physical environment subconsciously mirrors our inner world emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually.

We live mostly unaware of it. Like becoming smell-blind to the cat-box or oblivious to cobwebs holding up the walls, we stop sensing the truth of our environment and trap ourselves in the energy of sameness. It piles up like fine dust, layer upon layer. Then when the light hits just the right way, it becomes visible.

Fortunately, a shift made in one domain moves the other. Things change when you become conscious.

So I set aside a few hours to look at my writing studio with new eyes to bust through my creative block. It’s what I call intuitive feng shui — an objective but more deeply informed self-check on the energy of a space to see how it feels and how it flows.

Here’s how I moved my stuff and got unstuck.

Feel into it

Walking mindfully down the gravel path and across the yard, I notice the air, taking in the birdsong and the glint of morning light on the trees. Whatever the way to your creative space, take it slowly and notice. Stop at the door, take a deep breath. Be ready to receive.

Upon entering, I stop again to breathe deeper, smelling paper and the remains of a jasmine candle. My body grounds and relaxes. It’s a conditioned response to being in my private space nobody gets to mess up. But right behind that comes a heaviness, a weight of expectation and disappointment for not starting or not finishing my work. So this has to go.

Out of habit, I say hello aloud to acknowledge my creative muse or any Spirit, an ancestor or creative guide, who might choose to show up this day.

When they do, the space feels different — there’s a sense of presence.

If you write fiction, you might experience this as characters arrive for their turn at the keyboard. You might not see or hear anything, but you know someone is there.

At my desk, I check in again to what I’m feeling. The chair isn’t comfortable, but I’ve put off shopping for a new one. I’m ungrounded because my body isn’t well supported.

Thinking about writing triggers an ache just below my ribs. It’s the push of unexpressed creative energy. A rush of anxiety to complete something sends my mind flying out the window to chase to-do lists or solve others’ problems instead of focusing on my projects.

My body, feelings, and emotions are great feedback about the internal environment from which I’m trying to create. No wonder enjoying writing is hard.

What’s the story?

Now I notice things around me, checking out my studio as if for the first time like a detective or a nosy neighbor. What does my stuff say about me? What does it unconsciously reveal about my strengths and flaws?

The setting we inhabit, created by what we accumulate or ignore, tells the story of our lives and influences us on multiple levels.

My things show me the story of being stuck.

The desk is turned at an angle in the back right corner, ostensibly to give me the best view. But today, I’m acutely aware of my inability to move freely behind my desk. A rickety bamboo table tucked in the corner limits my range to roll my chair back and forth. Binders full of ideas, plans, and business stuff rest precariously on top of the table. One bump and they tumble.

I’ve shoved myself in a corner. Most notably, into the relationship corner of the room according to feng shui. And it’s relationships that have consumed me, eaten up time and energy the most by choosing to take care of others over me and writing time. It’s hard to feel creative when I’m hemmed in and annoyed — surrounded by the past that has no bearing on what I’m doing now. I laugh at the apparent connection. Why did I stay crammed in here for so long?

Off to my right, a bookcase stuffed with volumes stands in the same place it’s been for ten years. I love my books and refuse to let go. It’s holding energy, stagnant and lifeless.

An antique chest of drawers under the front window groans with the weight of old drafts of my published book and an unfinished novel. There’s no room to store potential — like new journals, tablets, and pens.

The floor is cold and barren since I donated my rug months ago. Somehow, I never got around to buying something new.

Despite procrastination and a need for change, much of my space still works. I never tire of the warm yellow walls that glow in the afternoon light. A glass-paneled door looks onto two massive trees and an evergreen garden promising red roses and pink azaleas soon. Inside, nature surrounds me in the artwork. Trinkets and treasures collected on hikes adorn the window sills, holding meaning only for me.

Out of the rut

Once you see what’s no longer working, it’s easy to act. So the rickety table went outside, leaving the binders and journals near the door for further consideration.

Holding on — to stuff, fear, weight, responsibility — was visible everywhere in my current life and kept me stuck creatively, so I looked for ways to let go. I killed off my darlings by recycling old notebooks. I evicted authors from the bookcase — like the flaky novel writing teacher who annoyed the hell out of me.

Practicality makes me hang on to things too long and keeps me small. That’s just settling for less, making do, and isn’t congruent with creative, expansive living. Investing in things that inspire and support me (like a new chair), whether symbolic or substantial, is a multi-faceted signal that I’m a worthwhile channel for more creative flow.

Rewrite with intention

When the chaos settles, the fun begins. It’s all about intention and being clear about how I want the space to feel. And how I want to feel when I’m here. What’s the vision of my writing life?

Now I can write the story of what I want, creating immediate change with what’s in front of me.

First, the bookcase and chest of drawers trade places to break the energy of sameness. Next, I push the desk out of the corner to face the front wall. Just a few feet of movement, and the room felt instantly bigger. My energy field ballooned to fill it. I felt more in charge.

I rescue a tall narrow bookshelf from the garage and put it in the corner representing wealth and abundance, then take time to consider what truly makes me feel rich. I place my tarot cards, a vision board, a storage box full of client notes I call my Book of Souls, and a luxurious smelling diffuser on the shelves. It’s sacred, like an altar. Contentment fills me every time I look at it.

Rearranging and reviewing the things I love reminds me of my deeper creative self. Inspiration pops back in, the excitement of connection returns.

Thoughtfully setting an intention through color, smell, sound, and specific items holding memory and meaning establishes the energy quality in our surroundings. Intention made tangible in this way sends a clear message to any doubting inner critic or saboteur and declares to the Universe: This is what I want! I align with this!

Clearing the stagnant energetic environment of your creative area breaks up and then elevates the vibration of your workspace. Doing so circumvents the need for new ideas or obsessing over doing things right before creativity is possible. It grounds your space and your body, making it easier to prioritize imagination overload.

Moving blocked energy in your creative space first shifts the space inside you to write from a better place.

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Julia Novak
The Ninja Writers Pub

A writer and psychic spiritual mentor. I see in the dark and write about light: intuition, energy, Spirit & mothering. www.julianovak.net