This morning I lay on the couch, sipping coffee and summoning motivation to go for my morning walk. My method—scrolling through my phone—is not one I recommend if you’re trying to get yourself moving.
I looked up for a moment and almost gasped. The sun, shining through the trees and then my window, had created what looked like a black and white abstract painting hung on my wall. The photo snapped with my phone doesn’t do it justice. But I thought—what a gift. What beauty lies in ordinary things, if only we look up once in a while, slow down enough to notice them. How much do we miss, simply because we forget to pay attention?
The perfection of the angle of the sun, the fleeting shadows that soon shifted and looked like nothing, pushed me off the couch and out into the day. I’ve learned that just observing beauty boosts creativity and productivity.
On my walk, the wildflowers along the path bloomed bright, suddenly prodigious, as if they realized—oh my gosh, it’s August. Time to grab the opportunity before it fades.
In my current work, I’m helping clients with editing and the countless details that come right after editing: procuring an ISBN, selecting fonts and artwork for their book covers, deciding on a trim size, writing an author bio and back cover copy. Essential details, but rather exacting.
Self-publishing is a journey of many steps, and part of my job is guiding people on those steps—a very satisfying work that I enjoy. But this part of the journey engages a different part of my brain than writing: the part where checklists and details and forms live.
These are an essential part of any job. I don’t know about you, but I don’t find these tasks life-giving. I’m happy to do them to help people get closer to their dream of publishing their book—they’re essential, but not playful. They’re work, labor, productivity. All important and worthy but sometimes tiring.
I’ve learned that my energy for detailed tasks grows when I take time to notice and seek out beauty. Beauty doesn’t have to be extraordinary. You don’t have to travel far to find it. In fact, sometimes it finds you, like a sudden art installation comprised of light and shadow on your family room wall, or a sea of wildflowers in your suburban neighborhood.
If you’re feeling stuck or burned out or blocked, step away from the work, and go for a walk. In a meadow or woods, or just in your own neighborhood. Notice the rays of sunlight, the smell of fresh cut grass, the riotous colors of summer.
People sometimes ask where creativity comes from, what fuels writing. I tell them, seek out the divine in the ordinary. When beauty comes, don’t rush past it. Stop and soak it in, pay attention. There is an implication in that phrase, to pay attention. There’s a cost—but also a value received.
Feeling stuck in your writing, or your work? What would happen if you took time to step back and look around you? Put down your phone, lift up your head. For even a few moments, deliberately feed your soul with beautiful things that are not on a screen: artwork, gardens, the sun through the backyard trees.
The world is fierce and sometimes scary, but it is full of beauty and unexpected gifts. Today, take some time to pay attention, to fill the well of your creativity by soaking in the wondrous.