Losing connection to your creation; & learning to trust divine timing.

When you lose connection to your creation, does that mean you’re a bad artist? I don’t believe so, and here’s why.

I’ve been writing a short story. A playful & flirtatious piece, built on the foundations of my own desire to experience the feelings I’m eliciting from the would-be reader. It’s cheeky. It’s fun. And I’ve worn a smile for every one of the 5,600 words I’ve written so far. 

Each time I sat down to write, I could feel the story running through my veins. I knew the characters like they lived inside my own heart. I’d giggle incessantly and send my bestie snippets, eagerly awaiting her reactions. It excited me, deeply. And I wrote, falling more in love with this story every single day. Until suddenly, I didn’t anymore.

At the climax of the story, I stopped. Somehow I’d lost the connection. I could no longer feel it anywhere in my body. I knew exactly how the characters were going to experience the next scene, and how the story would end - I could literally see it in my head - and yet, I still couldn’t write it. Not connected, my heart would whisper. 

Now, if I’ve learnt anything from my previous experience of writing, and writing in a way that honours connection and truth above all else; it's that divine timing is real, and it demands to be heeded. 

Let me explain:

Back in February 2022, I finished writing my book, Hope. And throughout the year-long process of writing, as well as the many moments of inception prior to that, I’d held fast to the knowledge that I would self-publish this book. Yet when I finished, I randomly sent my manuscript to an indie publishing company. And when they replied; “We loved your manuscript, we’re interested in publishing it”, I thought I was done.

But after months of hearing nothing more from them, and so many re-edits I’d lost count, I finally recognised the truth; I’m not done, she’s not done. There’s something else I need to learn before this book can be out in the world.

Then I let the connection to my book go cold. 

As soon as I dropped it I saw how desperate I was to get into the ‘new chapter’ of my life, and how in doing so, I hadn’t properly closed the doors on the previous one. I saw how I was attached to a happy ending - one that hadn’t even emerged privately yet - so much so that I was teetering on the edge of no longer being truthful to myself. And I saw how despite my best efforts and intentions not to, I’d somehow managed to write this book looking for the approval of others.

Discouraged and a little defeated, I spent the following months focusing on myself, on closing the doors of those old chapters and diving into the heart of my own truth and integrity.

It didn't take long for the connection to re-spark. And two days was all it took to finalise my manuscript. I powerfully changed the voice in which I narrated my story. I had unknowingly narrated it as a victim, not the empowered woman I’d become. Focusing on what was present in my life had allowed me to find a much more potent truth, one that gave my book, and my story, the wings it always deserved.

Loosing connection is an essential part of my process - it provides me with the greatest opportunity to integrate my learnings and to discover new ones.

I’m not here to write pretty words. I’m here to weave the essence of my experience in a way that will be felt by those who read them. And if I force myself to write then I will have lost more than my connection - I will have lost my integrity in the process of creation.

Loosing connection doesn't mean you're not worthy, or that you're incapable of creating - it’s actually the highest form of connection possible.

Keep listening, and keep creating my friends.