Is Your Inner Critic Your Muse?

Is your focus on the outcome of your art and what others will think, and not solely on your creative expression, unspoiled by perfectionism?

The inner critic, such treachery, appears as a method of discipline, but the wrong kind of discipline damages the creative process. The deepest, truest discipline has its roots in the ancient wisdom of the Hebrew prophet Zechariah:

"Not by might, not by power, but by my spirit." (Zechariah 4:1)

During the summer holidays, as children, my siblings and I would take to the woods and play all day until the streetlamps came on. Our mother didn't appear to care where we were or what we were up to. Not just because she had taught us survival skills and how to stand up for ourselves, but also because she was too busy writing for herself, Amnesty International, or another charitable cause. My older sister's friends thought she was interesting and cool, but I just saw her as this cold, green-eyed woman with a hard shell and two sets of tough knuckles that she wasn't afraid to use.

Back then, we had less environmental stress but more emotional stress, the inevitable turbulence endured by a dysfunctional family. Wholesomely fucked up from this spiritual poverty, we innately laughed and messed about with the local kids. We were considered different. Inside, we were hurting badly from selfish, bloodied fathers and a wounded eccentric mother. We all carried our pain along the journey of our lives, causing car crash decisions and inner turmoil because of our disconnection.

I write about my past to paint a picture of the broken pieces that are embedded in my soul. I continually searched to find answers to unspoken questions that echoed inaudibly in my heart. All I knew was write or draw it out, and yet, confused by the pressure to find a purpose or calling in writing, I would get stuck and feel less.

Do we all need to write to pacify our souls? For a lifetime, I have asked myself, 'Is there a book in me?' Or was it all the years I watched my mother give more loving attention to her writing than to me?

Like you, I soak in the essence of words. They contain richness in every context by allowing meaning through composing such textures and layers of written art. Like a song, its effect can change your mood.

I absorbed Steven Pressfield's War on Words and Julia Cameron's 'The Artist's Way'. They both, among others, believe in a muse. A creative entity. A supernatural flow that gives birth to innovative ideas.

I wanted this for so long, but realised we are all capable of having this, not by deep yearning but by acknowledging this innate ability by disallowing perfectionism. So many of us do not know where to start or why we feel so unhappy, and I understand this. I have lived on a continuous path of questioning and writing to find answers. All these years later, I have come to a much healthier mindset in dedicating time daily to meditate and pray to give myself permission to just be, and lovingly accept myself without any pressure to be someone or something. It's not an easy feat.

I cannot speak for everyone who writes, but I do sense that in hope, we crave outside recognition to be acknowledged by our words and yet not admit that the deeper need in this is to have a more loving sense of self in our very own spirit. If we could allow this, then our words would be freer to come into existence as a true reflection of our unique fingerprint of art.

What are your thoughts on finding your muse?

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