Writing is a lot like a muscle. It’s been a few months since I had a regular writing practice, and I notice how hard it is to let the words flow.

I can write bullshit — like, I can sit down in front of my computer and write nonsense — but even this requires work now.

My inner critic is louder, demanding that I spend more time editing my thoughts before I just put them out. My muscle in trusting the process of writing has atrophied.

So it takes time to build that muscle again. Writing whatever comes to mind, and trusting that that is what I have to do before the #GoodShit starts to come forward.

I’m reminded of how the act of creating art is really an ongoing practise of trust.

I have an idea of what I’d like the finished product to look like, but everything that happens along the process to arrive there is an act of trust.

I have to trust that the nonsense coming out of my brain as I begin writing and “warming up”, is actually contributing towards arriving at that final result. I have to trust that the thread of thought I’m currently following will eventually coalesce into something intelligent.

Hardest of all, I have to trust the days when I sit down and write gibberish for an hour, have my timer go off, and end with nothing really to show for my work.

I notice that a good deal of how we’re set up to operate is to avoid the need of trusting. If I can figure things out beforehand, or get the right answer, then I don’t need to trust. I just carry out the recipe and I arrive at a guaranteed result.

The process of growth (and art) is counter to this. We have to learn from our own process, and the only way to learn this way is to allow our own process in the first place.

No recipe, no easy answers to follow. Just following your intuition and trusting that it’s leading you somewhere.

What art are you currently practising?