As Julia Cameron’s famous work The Artist’s Way makes clear, creativity is a form of spiritual practise that we need to nurture on a daily basis. For several years now, my own creative practise has begun each morning with a meditation followed by an inspirational daily reading, which I call a secular devotional.
In many ways, I draw on what is known in the monastic tradition as lectio divina, Latin for ‘divine reading’. This is a traditional Christian practise of reading and meditation that dates back to the early centuries of the Christian church and it was St Benedict, the founder of the Benedictine order, who formalised and popularised this practise in a monastic setting. Lectio divina was then further developed and refined by other Christian mystics and theologians throughout the Middle Ages.
There are break down the four main components of lectio divina:
lectio or reading. This step is about reading a passage of text slowly and carefully, not being in a hurry or trying to get too intellectual, but consciously engaging with every word in every moment of the text.
meditatio or meditation. After the initial reading, we meditate on the words or phrases that stood out to us, reflecting on the meaning of those words and allowing them to resonate with us.
oratio or prayer. While traditional lectio divina draws upon prayer to divinity, in a secular lectio practise we can use the third stage to connect with our own deepest inner self, allowing this part of our self to resonate with the reading.
contemplatio or contemplation. Finally in this moment of quiet receptivity we allow any thoughts that might arise from within us to draw our attention to the most meaningful aspects of the reading and the purpose that the reading can have in our own live.
Secular lectio isn’t meant to be rigid or formulaic. Rather, it’s meant to be a flexible and personalised approach to engaging in short readings that can serve as inspiration for the day. And although the practise is traditionally associated with monastic life, it has also gained popularity outside of monastic communities and is now embraced within secular contexts as well. Ultimately, lectio is about the transformative power of reading and the inspiration that it can bring.
To bring secular lectio into our own creative practise, the text we choose must resonate with our own creative journey and be able to foster a deeper connection with one’s thoughts, ideas, and artistic processes. And perhaps most importantly, it invites us to create stillness and reflection in our creative practise. This will look different for everyone and while I have offered some recommendations above of secular devotional that have positively impacted me and my creative practise, there are also many others that can be discovered and explore.
We might then also think about extending our secular lectio with a practise of journal writing, perhaps using Cameron’s idea of morning pages as a way of doing this.
Through this daily secular devotional practise, we create a heightened awareness and presence, cultivating mindfulness and ultimately enhancing our ability to be fully present in our creative work. As I have found over the years, this leads to greater inspiration and imagination and ultimately strengthens our creative intuition by developing a deeper understanding of our own artistic voice and direction.
In the coming year, we all have the opportunity to better understand the relationship between creativity and spirituality and to utilise the opportunity that a daily devotional practise provides to create consistent inspiration for our creative work. In this way, we can explore the transformative power of the rhythms of creative live and continue to fill the well of inspiration.
As winter wraps London in its chilly embrace, we are grappling with freezing temperatures and the prospect of snow. I am originally from northeastern Ohio where subfreezing temperatures and deep snow are a standard feature from November through February, and something about the bracing winds today remind me of home. Like many others, it is at this time of year that I turn inwards, seeking a quieter, more contemplative rhythm to my life and creative work.
In a world where faster and more efficient results are constantly demanded, we as creative people are really seriously at risk of overextending ourselves, and there is a delicate dance between living up to the expectations of hustle culture and avoiding creative burnout. The ubiquitous messages around us emphasise the need for constant productivity, but it’s important to recognise that the wellspring of creativity isn’t bottomless. In order to be consistently creative, we must learn to find a balance between hard work and necessary rest. So strong is the social messaging around ‘speed’, ‘productivity’, and ‘effectivity’, that ‘rest’ itself has become something of a bad word and often widely misunderstood.
One of the most important lessons for creatives is to understand the power of cycles — cycles of work and rest. Sometimes these things are out of our control. For example, we might have deadlines at certain times of the year that we need to schedule in order to finish our work, or we might get sick, or other important commitments might come up that force us to not devote ourselves to our creative work as fully as we would like.
But while there are definitely parts of the cycle that are out of our control, there are other parts that we can shape, and the winter season, as we approach the new year, is an opportunity for us as creatives to look inwards for a little retreat, however that may look for us. The winter season is an ideal time for a creative retreat, an opportunity to recharge and set the course for the year ahead.
In my own routine, I’ve learnt to appreciate the practise of an annual review in the last weeks of December (an upcoming newsletter will share my annual review process). It’s about reflecting on the past year, recognising achievements, learning from challenges, and thinking about how these experiences will contribute to personal development in the coming year. A period of rest is when we’re not creating new content or coming up with our big new ideas, but that doesn’t mean that periods of rest are unfruitful; it is an important and thoughtful aspect of the creative process.
I’m not saying that December is the month in which we simply switch off. Some of us may have the opportunity to take a creative sabbatical, which is fantastic, but there are other ways we can find this creative calm within the year. One of the best strategies I’ve put into play is the concept of planned rest on the weekends. Often we push ourselves so hard during the working week that we just slump at the weekend, binge watching TV and movies, thinking that this will relax and recharge us, but what happens is that we feel the same on Sunday night as we did the Sunday night before. What if, instead, we start the weekend with an affirmation for the activities we’re going to do to unwind and recharge, such as a long hike or a meditation class or a museum visit. Instead of just letting our weekends fall before us, we can start to give our weekends some shape, by introducing forms of intentional calm that we know will recharge our batteries and leave us ready for the week ahead.
Another way we can implement cycles for creative occupations is by introducing rituals into our lives. I’ve have lots of rituals—seasonal rituals, monthly rituals, daily rituals—that give shape and form to my creative work and practises. So during this time of calm and stillness, how about we start each morning with a very simple ritual of simply lighting a candle. We don’t need to think too much about it; this routine and discipline will nourish us. We oftentimes incorrectly think that rest and regeneration is about letting go of all discipline. It’s not. We find strength and resilience through the patterns that we create and show up for but these patterns don’t need to be running a marathon every day. These restorative and empowering rituals can be something as simple as lighting a candle every morning
Another practical tool for sustainable creativity, is something known as time blocking. When we look at our to-do list, we sometimes feel overwhelmed by the amount of things we have to do. But rather than letting ourselves fall into that feeling of overwhelm and despair we can start time blocking our diary. For example, if there are three small tasks that might take 20 minutes each to complete, we can group them together in the next one hour block in our diary. We don’t have to think about them in the meantime. So it’s not about giving up the tasks we have to do. It’s about creating routines, habits, and patterns that allow us to find the strength we need in our hectic lives to constantly be able to fill the well and show ourselves as creative professionals.
Two really great books that talk more about the importance of rest are Rest: Why You Get more Done When Your Work Less by Alex Soojung-Kim Pang and Sacred Rest: Recover Your Life, Renew Your Energy, Restore Your Sanity by Saundra Dalton-Smith. But even more importantly, at this time of year I would encourage you to simple read a book that you enjoy! A funny one, romantic one, silly one, adventurous one. Whatever it is that feels like comfort and relaxation to you.
As we approach 2024, we can begin to embrace the cyclical nature of creativity. Knowing that as creatives we can’t work at full steam all year round, we need to find opportunities to rest, recover, and reflect. This doesn’t mean that we give up our work completely, but that we empower ourselves with forms of intentional rest. Ultimately this creates a more sustainable and fulfilling creative life for ourselves so that we’re able to show up and continue to produce as creatives, finding value and meaning in the process.
Imagine the mind as an intricate tapestry, woven from the threads of consciousness and the hidden fibres of the unconscious. In this tapestry, ancient contemplative practises and the more recent theories of psychoanalysis find common ground — a meeting place of wisdom and inquiry. It’s a fascinating meeting place where the whisper of mindfulness echoes through the corridors of the unconscious, where symbols and dreams intertwine in a dance of deep meaning.
In the realm of contemplative studies, from the tranquil gardens of Zen Buddhism to the vibrant traditions of yoga, people have sought self-knowledge for centuries. In recent decades, psychoanalysts, armed with work of Freud and enriched by thinkers who followed him including Carl Jung and Roberto Assagioli, have ventured into the uncharted territories of the human mind. The question arises: what happens when these two paths, one deeply rooted in ancient wisdom and the other in modern psychology, meet? How can the practise of mindfulness be reconciled with the cryptic language of the unconscious?
Contemplative practises, rooted in ancient traditions across cultures, and psychoanalytic theory, born in the fervent intellectual soil of the late 19th century, have one thing in common: an exploration of the hidden depths of the human mind.
To understand the interaction between contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory, we must first explore the deep roots of contemplation. Across cultures and centuries, from Vipassana meditation in ancient India to Zen practises in Japan, contemplative traditions have embraced the art of self-awareness. Rooted in philosophy and spirituality, these practises invite individuals to embark on an inward journey, a journey that goes beyond the superficial layers of consciousness.
At the heart of contemplative practises is the cultivation of mindfulness — a state of heightened awareness in which one observes thoughts and feelings without judgement. This mindfulness, an essential component of contemplation, paves the way for self-reflection and allows individuals to explore the complex fabric of their mind.
As we delve deeper into these practises, we encounter echoes of psychoanalytic concepts that resonate at their core. Psychoanalysis ventures into the unexplored territories of the unconscious. Freud’s groundbreaking work illuminated the existence of hidden desires, fears and motivations that govern human behaviour. Concepts such as the id, the ego, and the superego, which resemble the archaic gods within the human being, represent the complex interplay between conscious and unconscious forces.
Furthermore, psychoanalysis is concerned with the symbolic language of dreams, in which the unconscious communicates its deepest secrets. Dreams, like contemplative experiences, serve as windows to the unconscious and reveal the multiple layers of human consciousness. This is where contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory intersect — the exploration of symbolism, the decoding of hidden meanings and the unravelling of the human psyche.
At the intersection of contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory lies a fascinating convergence: the interplay of mindfulness and the unconscious. Mindfulness, as cultivated through contemplative practises, involves observing thoughts and sensations with unceasing attention. This heightened attention, similar to the psychoanalytic concept of free association, allows individuals to penetrate the depths of their unconscious thoughts without the constraints of conscious censorship.
In this overlap, contemplative practises offer a unique lens through which to explore psychoanalytic concepts. Mindful observation of thoughts and emotions without judgement is consistent with Freud’s concept of free association, where individuals express unfiltered thoughts and allow the unconscious to surface. Mindfulness reflects in its essence the psychoanalytic endeavour to reveal the hidden layers of the mind and to transcend the boundaries of language and rationality.
However, this convergence does not come without challenges. The theoretical integration of contemplative practises and psychoanalytic concepts raises questions about cultural nuances, conceptual differences, and the evolution of both fields. Can ancient contemplative wisdom co-exist harmoniously with the rigorously structured framework of psychoanalytic theory? Can the language of mindfulness communicate eloquently with the symbolic lexicon of the unconscious?
But in addressing these challenges, a world of possibilities opens up to us. The integration of contemplative practises into psychoanalytic theory offers a transformative paradigm that goes beyond the boundaries of traditional therapeutic approaches. It invites us to imagine a future in which the interdisciplinary synergy between ancient wisdom and modern psychology illuminates new ways of understanding the human mind.
In terms of theoretical implications, the intersection of contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory offers a profound shift in our understanding of consciousness. Contemplative practises, with their emphasis on mindfulness, challenge the conventional boundaries of conscious experience. In the state of mindfulness, the individual traverses the realms of subjective and objective experience, blurring the boundaries between the observer and the observed.
This dissolution of boundaries finds resonance with psychoanalytic concepts such as the dissolution of the ego. As the individual engages in contemplative practises, the ego — the conscious perception of the self — gradually recedes, allowing the unconscious facets of the psyche to emerge. In this dissolution, the dichotomy between the conscious and the unconscious dissolves, leading to a holistic understanding of the human mind.
Furthermore, the integration of contemplative practises challenges the deterministic foundations of traditional psychoanalysis. Freudian concepts, such as the influence of early childhood experiences on adult behaviour, take on new dimensions when viewed through the lens of mindfulness. Contemplative practises enable individuals to observe their conditioned responses and automatic thoughts, and offer the possibility of overcoming the limitations of past experiences. This liberation from determinism, a hallmark of contemplative practises, leads to a paradigm shift in psychoanalytic thinking and invites a re-evaluation of established theories.
Another fascinating overlap between contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory occurs in the realm of symbolism. In psychoanalysis, dreams serve as portals to the unconscious, laden with symbols and metaphors that convey hidden meanings. The symbolic language of dreams, meticulously analysed by psychoanalysts, reflects the intricate symbolism embedded in contemplative experiences.
In mindfulness practise, individuals often encounter vivid images and symbols that rise from the depths of their unconscious. These symbols, which are similar to the dream motifs analysed in psychoanalysis, have deep meaning. For example, a recurring image of water in contemplative experiences can symbolise the unconscious mind, which stands for the fluidity of thoughts and feelings. Similarly, symbols such as trees or mountains can represent inner strength and stability, reflecting the psychological landscape of the individual.
The convergence of these symbolic languages offers a rich field for exploration. Psychoanalysts familiar with dream interpretation can draw parallels between dream symbols and contemplative imagery, deciphering the common archetypes and motifs that permeate the human unconscious. This interdisciplinary dialogue enriches both fields and offers new ways of understanding the symbolic dimensions of the human psyche.
As contemplative practises are incorporated into psychoanalytic theory, the development of psychoanalytic theory takes a transformative course. Traditional psychoanalytic approaches rooted in verbal communication and introspection are expanding to include non-verbal expressions. Contemplative practises that include movement-based techniques such as yoga and tai chi are opening up new avenues of self-expression and self-exploration.
By incorporating these embodied practises into psychoanalytic therapy, psychoanalysts can explore the somatic dimensions of the unconscious. The body, a reservoir of unexpressed emotions and trauma, becomes a canvas for exploration. Through mindful movement and breathwork, people can release pent-up emotions stored in their muscles and tissues, allowing for catharsis and emotional healing. This integration of contemplative practises elevates psychoanalytic therapy into a holistic realm that encompasses not only verbal narratives but also the language of the body.
Moreover, contemplative practises introduce a temporal dimension into psychoanalytic theory. In mindfulness meditation, awareness of the present moment is heightened and the boundaries of past and future are overcome. This emphasis on the present challenges the traditional psychoanalytic framework in which the past is of paramount importance. Contemplative practises invite psychoanalysts to explore the therapeutic potential of the present moment and promote acceptance and self-compassion.
At the intersection of contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory, an ethical imperative emerges— the call to cultivate compassion and empathy in the therapeutic relationship. Contemplative practises rooted in compassion-based traditions such as Buddhism emphasise the cultivation of loving kindness and empathy towards self and others. This cultivation of compassion is consistent with the basic principles of psychoanalytic therapy, in which the therapeutic relationship serves as a crucible for healing and transformation.
To the extent that psychoanalysts integrate contemplative practises into their therapeutic approaches, the focus shifts from purely intellectual understanding to embodied empathy. Through mindfulness, therapists tune into the emotional nuances of their clients and resonate with their inner experiences. This empathic resonance, fostered through contemplative practises, creates a sacred space where clients feel truly seen and heard, enabling a deep therapeutic relationship.
The cultivation of compassion in contemplative practises goes beyond the therapeutic dyad to encompass social dimensions. In an interconnected world characterised by divisions and conflicts, the integration of contemplative wisdom into psychoanalytic theory offers a beacon of hope. Psychoanalysts equipped with the tools of mindfulness and empathy can contribute to the collective healing of humanity and promote understanding and reconciliation.
As we traverse the unexplored horizons of the human psyche, the intersection of contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory illuminates new paths of understanding. In this interdisciplinary dialogue, ancient wisdom and modern psychology meet to offer a holistic perspective on the complexity of the human mind. The dissolution of boundaries between mindfulness and the unconscious, the exploration of symbolic languages, the development of psychoanalytic theory and the ethical imperative of compassion — all these facets weave a rich tapestry of exploration and discovery.
In the words of the great minds who have explored these areas, from Freud to the contemplative masters of our time, we find echoes of a profound truth — the human mind, with all its complexities and mysteries, remains an inexhaustible source of fascination. As we continue to explore this intersection, we unravel the mystery of our own existence, one contemplative moment at a time.
In the convergence of contemplative practises and psychoanalytic theory, we find not only a theoretical integration, but also a profound invitation — a summons to embark on a transformative journey inward. This journey, informed by self-reflection, empathy and mindfulness, transcends disciplinary boundaries and invites us to explore the depths of our own consciousness. In answering this call, we unravel the intricacies of the human mind and engage with the enigma that is our existence. In this exploration, we discover not only the hidden depths of the psyche, but also the limitless potential for growth, healing and deep self-discovery.
Learning to develop self-compassion is an essential part of integrative therapy. Integrative therapy aims to treat the whole person — body, mind and spirit — using a variety of therapeutic approaches. It recognises that each person is unique and that there is no single approach to therapy. Integrative therapy is also often described as a ‘holistic’ approach, meaning that it considers all aspects of a person’s life, including their physical health, emotional wellbeing, relationships, and spirituality.
Self-compassion is an important aspect of integrative therapy because it enables people to deal with difficult feelings and negative thoughts that might impact upon all areas of their lives. It is about treating oneself with the same kindness, appreciation and understanding that one would show a good friend. In this way, the individual can accept their shortcomings and faults, leading to greater self-knowledge and self-acceptance. When individuals treat themselves with kindness and understanding, they are more motivated to make positive changes in their lives.
People who are kind to themselves are better able to deal with setbacks and challenges. They are also less likely to be overwhelmed by negative feelings because they have developed skills to manage their thoughts and feelings in a healthy way. For example, people who have learned to practise self-compassion can recognise when they are feeling stressed or anxious and take action to take care of themselves, such as by taking deep breaths, taking a break or seeking support from others.
Developing self-compassion is especially important for people who struggle with anxiety and depression. These people often suffer from negative self-talk and self-criticism, which can exacerbate their symptoms and make recovery more difficult. Integrative therapy approaches that focus on self-compassion can help sufferers break free from these patterns and learn to be kind to themselves. Cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), for example, is a form of therapy that has been shown to be effective in treating anxiety and depression. CBT helps individuals to identify and challenge negative thoughts and replace them with more positive, self-compassionate thoughts.
Another benefit of self-compassion is that it helps people build closer relationships with others. When people are kind to themselves, they are more likely to be kind to others. They are also more likely to attract positive people into their lives because they radiate positivity and self-love. Integrative therapy approaches that focus on self-compassion, such as acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT), can help people develop more empathy and compassion for others. ACT teaches people to accept their thoughts and feelings without judgement and to act in accordance with their values, even in the face of difficult emotions.
Integrative therapy approaches that focus on self-compassion often include mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) techniques. Mindfulness means paying attention to the present moment without judging it. By practising mindfulness, individuals can become more aware of their thoughts and feelings and learn to respond to them in a non-judgmental, compassionate way. This can help the individual to free themselves from negative thought patterns and develop more self-awareness and self-acceptance.
Integrative therapists can help their clients develop self-compassion by teaching them mindfulness techniques, encouraging self-care and reframing negative thoughts. For example, an integrative therapist can help a client recognise negative self-talk and reframe it in a more positive, self-compassionate way. The therapist can also encourage the client to take care of themselves, get enough rest, eat well and engage in activities that they enjoy.
In The Path of Mindful Living: A 21-Day Mindfulness Companion, I lead you through a series of self-guided mindfulness exercises and show you how to bring mindfulness into your daily life. Readers of my blogcan download the workbook and pullout charts for only £6.
In The Paradox of Intention, Marvin Shaw writes about the challenges of maintaining happiness in the present moment while sustaining a vision for a better future. As Shaw notes, this spiritual paradox underlies many spiritual and philosophical traditions, including Stoicism, Taoism, and psychotherapy. After practicing things like yoga meditation for some time, one begins to recognise a paradox: these spiritual practices help us to realise the value of the present moment, even though we know that we also want to keep growing in the future.
We often experience this paradox when we are still very attached to our own ideas of how we would like the future to be and continue to subtly resist the idea that the ‘now’ will provide us with everything we need. For many people, this resistance leads to a deep concern that by seeing the present moment as perfect and complete, they will lose motivation to move forward and, even worse, lose sight of what a better future could look like for themselves and those around them.
We can begin to recognise this resistance within ourselves by noticing that we tend to talk ourselves out of feeling like we are on the right track. We may feel we are going in a good direction and then our inner critics swoops in with a misguided attempt to protect us from disappointment in the future.
But what happens when we learn to hold on to the simultaneous truth that everything is perfect and that everything can also get better?
The practise of non-attachment does not mean that we should not value the future; it means that we should not become overly attached to it. We need to learn to value the present moment, even though we should absolutely hope that we will continue to grow and change in the future. This all sounds difficult because it is. Many of our motivations and thoughts come from conditioning and past experiences. However, when we become aware of our inner experiences, we can begin to recognise them for what they are before our conditioning and past experiences have had a chance to take hold.
When we are aware of the spiritual paradox – that everything is perfect and that everything can be better – we can begin to give space to the desire for growth and change, giving value to the present moment as the perfect time for development and change.
Our deep desire to grow and evolve can sometimes become a strong attachment to the future and an obstacle to living in the present moment. The future is not a fixed quantity or constant. It is constantly evolving and therefore can only emerge through our actions in the present and our connection to the ‘now’. We can begin to develop a more secure attachment to ourselves by reflecting on the following questions:
Why do I find it difficult to acknowledge the present moment as perfect while maintaining a desire to continue to grow?
To what extent do I lack confidence in my ability to continue to grow and change?
How do I experience my desire to keep growing and changing?
In what ways are my desires and needs different in the present than in the future?
In what ways am I averse to the present moment?
How do I experience my vulnerability when I am alone?
What are some examples of my resistance to the present moment?
The spiritual practice of non-attachment can help us realise that the perfect time for development and change is right now. It is not that we will have the answers, but that we are in the present moment experiencing change, learning and improving. Non-attachment means that we are able to be at peace with life even when we do not get what we want.
By appreciating the present moment, we can realise that we often try to reconstruct the past so that we can feel better in the present. It is possible to develop a new view of the world that is more real and true. We can allow ourselves to see things as they are without having to see them as they should be or as we think they should look.
Download your free 21-day course in The Path of Mindfulness. In this life-changing 21-day mindfulness journey, Dr Allan Kilner-Johnson guides you through a series of self-guided mindfulness exercises and shows you how and when to bring mindfulness into your daily life.
