Creativity, at its essence, is not a mysterious bolt of inspiration that strikes the lucky or the gifted one. In fact, it is a quiet, persistent practice. To me, and it has a lot in common with a process of meditation. 

The first few years I meditated were very much like the first few years I spent doing life drawing back in high school. In both, I was clumsy, unsure, and constantly doubting if I was doing it “right.” But over time, I realised that both practices were not about perfection or performance. They were simply about presence.

In life drawing, I practice to observe objects, light, and shadow more closely, and to priority the process over the outcome. In meditation, I practice to watch my thoughts and sensations come and go, sitting with myself without trying to fix or judge anything. Both taught me to slow down, to observe, and to be okay with what is here in the moment.

Just as meditation invites us to return again and again to the presence, creativity calls us back to curiosity, to observation, to noticing what is happening in the now. It is not a linear path toward a polished masterpiece, but a spiraling journey of exploration. A journey that is very much rooted in curiosity, mindful observation, and letting go.

The Myth of Creative Flow and Creative Block

The myth of creative flow suggests that inspiration should arrive effortlessly and consistently, like a magical state we simply fall into. However, striving to be in this state all the time isn’t helpful, or necessary, to be an artist. On the flip side, creative block is often seen as a sign of failure or a lack of talent. What we often overlook is the simple truth that both are part of the natural rhythm of the creative process. Flow can be fleeting and unpredictable, while blocks are often invitations to pause, reflect, or shift direction. Instead of resisting them, learning to work with both states, and showing up regardless, can lead to deeper, more authentic creative expression.

I’m currently doing the 12-week The Artist’s Way program with a group of women as part of our AIM Meditation Teacher Training course. For anyone who may not be familiar, The Artist’s Way is a 12-week creative recovery program by Julia Cameron, designed to help people reconnect with their inner artist and overcome fear, self-doubt, and perfectionism. Through weekly readings, journaling (what she calls Morning Pages), and activities like Artist Dates, it supports individuals in rediscovering inspiration and creative confidence.

Week 7 of The Artist’s Way is all about healing our sense of connection, to our creativity, to others, and to the flow of life itself. This chapter reveals how important it is to reclaim our innate desire to create for the sake of creating, not for validation or perfection. The creative process, Cameron reminds us, is a spiritual path. It’s not about getting it right. It’s simply about showing up.

What I’ve found works well for me as an artist is to stop focusing on whether I’m in creative flow or facing a block, and instead simply stay present, taking one step at a time, continuing to show up, and keep moving forward. When I do that, the path always reveals itself.

Much like meditation, creativity requires presence. It begins with paying attention. When we sit down to make something, either a painting or a poem, we are not imposing our will so much as we are listening. The more we notice, the more we are guided by something deeper than our critical mind. This act of paying attention, of observing the world with wonder, is the birthplace of all creativity.

Curiosity and Observation: The Artist’s Tools

Consider Leonardo da Vinci. He is often remembered as a genius, a master, a visionary. But beneath the myth is a man relentlessly curious. He asked questions most wouldn’t think to ask: Why is the sky blue? What does the tongue of a woodpecker look like? How do muscles work under the skin? His notebooks are filled with observations, fragments, sketches, unfinished, raw, exploratory.

Leonardo’s creativity was more than just a gift; it was a constant practice of looking deeply. Of questioning what he saw. Of following the thread of a thought not for an outcome, but for the joy of exploration. And yet, he also had a pattern of abandoning commissions. Some might call that failure or irresponsibility, but there is another way to see it: he was deeply attuned to his creative truth. If a project no longer aligned with his inner compass, he let it go. His legacy reminds us that following curiosity is not always efficient or neat, but it is deeply honest.

Keep Creating, Let Go of Perfection

One of the most important lessons in both meditation and creativity is this: Don’t stop when it gets hard. Don’t stop when the inner critic gets loud. Don’t stop when you feel like it’s not good enough. Just keep creating.

Letting go of perfectionism means allowing things to be unfinished, awkward, in progress. It means trusting the process more than the outcome. This is not easy. Perfectionism often masks fear, fear of judgment, fear of not being enough. But when we loosen the grip of control, something softer and truer begins to emerge.

In The Artist’s Way, we’re reminded that it’s okay to make bad art. In fact, sometimes we must make bad art to get to the good. Healing our connection to creativity is less about talent and more about permission. Permission to try. Permission to play. Permission to walk away when the soul says no.

The Wisdom of Knowing When to Let Go

Just as it's essential to keep going, it's also wise to know when to pause or release. Leonardo didn’t finish everything he started, and that’s not a flaw, it’s a sign of discernment. There’s a maturity in knowing when something is no longer nourishing your spirit. It doesn’t mean you’ve failed; it means you’ve listened.

Creativity asks for balance: perseverance and surrender. Holding on and letting go. When we stay connected to curiosity and observation, we naturally tune into what feels alive, and what does not. This discernment is part of the creative path.

Living Creatively

To live creatively is to walk the edge of the unknown with open eyes and a soft heart. It is to follow the thread of wonder wherever it may lead. It is to observe the world with reverence and allow that reverence to move through you.

Whether you are writing, painting, parenting, cooking, or simply trying to live more authentically, one important thing to remind yourself again and again is this: you do not need to be perfect. You just need to stay curious. Keep observing. Keep creating. And when the time comes to let go, do so with trust that something new is waiting to be born.