Your Deepest Creative Fires

The long goal is to write a book. The short goal is to write a number of words each day. That’s how the book gets finished.

Hercules statue from Greece Hercules - Creative Fire — Hercules – Creative Fire

That’s the principle rule of writing. To write with fire in your soul.

Keep writing, each day. Don’t allow the waves and the dark waters to mesmerize your thoughts. Work on your ability to keep focussed on the story.

When the writing focus deepens, so that the energy to work, have ideas, begins to manifest each day, you’ll experience a massive change in your practice.

The feeling of inspiration to work can sometimes feel like a ‘flit’ of a feeling. If we trust our creative instinct and grab that small spark that arises, and before it is in danger of being overwhelmed, use it and go with it, we will be forging a stronger creative soul.

How deep work is achieved; We repeat what we love doing. Repetition deepens and expands the good, and destroys the dross of life.

If regular practice happens, without fail, twice a week, three times a week, the job gets done. As time passes, we notice that our understanding increases, and our abilities to produce quality work is easier.

When it fails once, the work not done, then twice missed, a week, a month, the fire surely dwindles, the writing is less and less important, and will soon be extinguished. It’s a common trend towards failure when a person is lacking energy to find excuses to not write. Not to work, but play.

Our rhythms and our creative energies must always be stoked, kindled, and watched carefully. We must always sit at the fireplace of creativity.

Creativity and play can become one thing, but we must work at it with deep work in mind.

It must be a daily practice, a daily prayer, for it to become our existence.

Without focus that will lead to deep work, the creative practice of writing becomes a sporadic effort, that is always in danger of petering-out. There’s no focus, and certainly no consistent work.

The creative person is filled with the demands of a modern daily life; external distractions that demand attention interfere with the creative spirit.

Friends, family, and then of course, the computer screen that seems to offer the answer to all trivial questions.

The temptation to sit, just a few minutes, at the screen and browse a subject, or scroll through a feed of some stranger’s thoughts on how intelligent hamsters are, easily leads to an hour, or longer, looking at cute hamsters demonstrating calculus.

Daily life is full of traps and whirlpools that suck us down, and sometimes, when we veer away from the whirlpool, and we are not navigating properly, our creative ship begins to nudge against the perilous rocks below the surface of what at first appeared to be crystal clear waters.

It’s when we allow our vessel to drift through rough seas, and we don’t stay at the helm and steer, that we are forced into the wrong port.

To stay at the helm, is to focus, to be determined, and work deeply and consistently.

Creative people tend to be thinkers. They can be become embroiled in their own mesh. The nets they cast, to capture ideas, snag and pull, as deceptive currents and undertows threaten to drag the thinker into the murky deep waters.

The danger of the internet, like Hercules navigating the Gibraltar Straits, is a dangerous place. Like you and me, we must be vigilant and navigate, always.

The internet has the objective of gripping our minds like a coiling snake, destroying the creative fire.

You and I, want better, demand better, and therefore take action to be creative.

Hercules’ mum was angry, and so did a really wicked thing.

If you didn’t know, it was Juno, his mother who hated him, she wanted him to die a terrible death in the claws of ferocious creatures in the deep forests of Azure.

She was afraid that he would overshadow her, and she’d be forgotten, become a has-been, and be cast into the darkest heavens.

Zeus, his dad, always told Juno that he’s just a boy, he likes rolling in the stars, playing games. It’s all pretend stuff that he does, no worries — he’ll grow out of it. He didn’t.

Juno had her own ideas. She put an enormous python in his cot, that’s how much she hated her new born. There was no child-care to intervene in Ancient Greece, but Hercules, being Hercules, went to bed early that night with a picture book full of space pirates and famous galactic travellers. He loved the thought of travel, meeting strange people and visiting distance stars.

Hercules was a creative person, full of curiosity. Nothing could stop this kid.

His mum watched from the celestial corridors, as the serpent raised itself, twisted and turned in the cot, and bore down with its terrible fangs an inch from Hercules’s little skull, Juno gleefully planned her future as a free-footed goddess once again.

Hercules saw the whole thing as a fun challenge.

“Wow!”

“Who needs picture books, when I can do battle with a real python in bed?”

“Thanks, Mum!”

Hercules tore into the serpent as it wrapped itself around his small body. His enormous strength, born into his muscles, and a fearlessness that forged his spirit like a sword, he destroyed the serpent.

It was an ugly fight. A close call, but Hercules showed the snake who’s boss.

As you can imagine, Juno was extremely pissed-off.

Zeus, just grinned and shook his head, then said, “that’s my boy”.

Hercules grew up into a powerful god-man, for sure, he had issues. His mum, Juno, never gave up on her dream of eternal stardom, and she blamed all her woes on her son. He was a brat, a selfish sprig that fell from the branch and now expects everything on a plate. She despised every muscle twitch in his body.

In spite of this, Hercules was an optimist, all his life. He just got on and did things, and finished them. There was no quitting, no moaning, no quibbling about things, “Ooh! No, I don’t like monsters — you kill it!”, wasn’t in his vocabulary. He just went through life, facing every problem as a challenge.

He framed things according to his perspective on life. He had principles, too. He was strong physically, but he knew mental strength was even more powerful, so he worked deeply on his mental attitude. Be fearless, be upright (honest and authentic), and always carry a sword — you never know who’s gonna put a snake in yer bed”, was one of his many mottos.

Perspective is shaped by principles. What we believe in, how we live our days, it influences our outlook. Some people pray, others meditate. Some people believe in just getting on with it, do the work, and don’t stop until it’s finished. Be a Hercules, get on with it — finish it.

The story of Hercules is passed on by story tellers for us to mull over and ponder, to learn from. It’s not old fashioned stuff. It’s dynamic, powerful storytelling that delves deeply into our souls and transforms how we perceive the world.

Many people in the creative world have problems finishing. They encounter doubts. The problem is that they don’t see the doubt as it raises its head. It looks more like a sensible idea to be considered, so they open the door and let the imposter slither into their home.

The imposter wraps itself around their body, restricting life and creative forces, and then crushes all hopes of ever achieving anything worth working for.

Doubt is like Hercules’ mother, Juno. She is always behind the curtain, waiting for you to come up with an intelligent plan to better your life, to do something and feel proud of working, sticking at it, and finishing. She will have plans too, she will blame her failures on you, she will try her best to put an end to them, disrupt them.

Don’t allow it.