Energetic Patterns & Creativity
I am a Big Cat with a small set of spoons.
It’s an odd declaration, but this mixed metaphor is the best way I could think to answer a recent question from someone curious about the pace of my work with LIYF. The site hadn’t been mushrooming, and I wasn’t actively promoting, so they wondered if I was “still doing it.”
I’m still here. LIYF is still here. I visualized, planned, and crafted and it exists in the world with resources and inspiration to offer. I am still adding to it, albeit like an octopus slowly adding shells to its garden.
I often dream about and yearn for the next phase, though: developing more tools, expanding the resources, devoting the majority of my time to creating and sharing. But there are factors that can outpace my passion, so to explain better, let’s un-mix my initial cat/spoon metaphor and talk about energetic patterns and creativity.
For the first part of metaphor, come take a quick peek into the tropical forest and observe a tiger. Is he sleeping? He’s probably sleeping. Big Cats, such as tigers, need long periods to rest and recharge. They may spend around 18 hours a day sleeping, using these extended rest periods to restore their energy after the massive output spent on a hunt or out patrolling. Once they are rejuvenated, they unleash that restored energy in a massive burst on the next activity.
I do not spend 18 hours a day sleeping (I have a job and relationships to maintain), but I do experience that Big Cat energy cycle. I have periods of intense, focused bursts of energy as I pursue, develop, and complete a big project. These bursts are often followed by periods of creative inactivity, “the gardens of my brain lying fallow,” shall we say, to further mix the metaphor.
On the Art Juice podcast, artists and hosts Alice Sheridan and Louise Fletcher have discussed their creative energy patterns and how they are each affected (differently) by the seasonal cycles in nature. Being aware of their energetic patterns through seasonal and calendar transitions helps them strategically plan their work throughout the year with a schedule that is best aligned. This self-knowledge allows them to recognize patterns in their creative output, anticipate shifts, and moderate expectations. They also mentioned the Human Design model, which proposes 5 energy archetypes. I haven’t researched Human Design yet, but when Louise shared about her archetype and creative energy pattern, it sounded very much like my Big Cat model. As much as I sometimes wish I was an energetic marathoner instead of a sprinter, it’s encouraging to know I’m not an outlier and that I’m in good company.
For the cutlery portion of my metaphor, I refer you to Spoon Theory.
Writer Christine Miserandino first used the concept of Spoon Theory when explaining to a friend how - as someone with a chronic health condition – she needed to budget her energy. For a visual aid, she gathered a handful of spoons and indicated that each spoon represented a unit of energy. Proposing that everyone started their day with a set quantity of spoons, Christine shared that her spoon allotment was less than that of healthy people or younger people. As she moved through her day, each activity cost a spoon from her already small supply. After spending spoons on basic or necessary activities, the supply dwindled until she had very few spoons – very little energy – left to spend on elective activities. And sometimes, after all her energetic output, she would describe herself as being simply “out of spoons.”
Spoon Theory is commonly used in the disability community and mental health advocacy circles, and I’ve found it to be a helpful framework. Christine’s chronic health condition is much more severe than mine, but my systemic health issues regularly affect my energy levels. So does being a highly-sensing, neurodivergent introvert. So does stress, age, and life transitions.
As a Big Cat with a small set of spoons, all I can do is work with what I have. Wishing I was a sled dog with a banquet table of spoons is unhelpful. The better I understand my energy pattern and come to terms with it, the more attuned I can be, knowing when to push and when to rest.
I’m not special or unique in my cat-ness or spoon supply.
We all have varying limitations or restrictions of some sort placed upon us. But it helps to have a framework for myself to provide context and mitigate frustration when I’m not “doing all the things” or creating and building in ways that others can see.
I did not launch LIYF on a rocket ship trajectory, expanding and growing by the day, month, year. I set LIYF on the track I can run, moving forward in short sprints. I’m excited by what is to come. It will develop – bit by bit, burst by burst.
I’d love to hear how you think about your own energetic pattern. Does something here resonate with you? Is there a different framework that you’ve found to be helpful? (Mixed metaphors welcome, but not required.)