Creative Coaching and Training for the Hero’s Quest
Raise your hand if you’re a creative who never really developed a taste for sports.
Now put that hand back down. I promise that’s the most working out I’ll make you do today.
It’s a stereotype, of course, that artists and athletes don’t cross paths with one another or share common ground (and if you’re an artist who’s also fit, or an athlete who also creates - awesome! you’re welcome here too). Artists and athletes each have their own way, place and reason for breaking a sweat. They’re each performing, but for vastly different audiences, and measured by different means.
But there’s one particular difference that I’m envious of athletes for. It’s not their physique, discipline, or competitive rankings. It’s not the way they’re treated as heroes. It’s not even the public funding at an institutional level for arts vs. sports.
Athletes get coached. Artists very often work alone.
There are not that many easy avenues for the amateur and aspiring artist to get constructive feedback, encouragement, and discipline. You can take a class to learn a new skill or practice one you already have, go to creative meetups, post your creations in online hobby groups, or even take the plunge into formal art school. But are you getting what you really need? Are you being adequately challenged? Getting better at your craft? Getting help and attention for your specific weak spots? Hearing a pep talk in the locker room when you need it?
When I first developed my creative coaching style, I was seeing a personal trainer after a long hit-or-miss history with group exercise classes. I tried dancing off the calories, pulling my own weight from dangling straps on the ceiling, sweating through hot yoga, and swearing under my breath for HIIT. And instead of building camaraderie, the group settings often made me feel self-conscious and silently pressured to keep up - in spirit, even if not in body. Something about a fitness instructor cheerily urging me to smile through the sweat marks them as Enemy No. 1 in my endorphin-overloaded brain.
Working with a personal trainer helped take the pressure off - or at least, take the pressure off the wrong areas and put it where it counts, much like lifting with proper technique. We modified the routines to match what I was looking for, and she switched it up for me every time so I wouldn’t get bored, which happened often when I tried to set my own workout routines. Timidly using machines by myself with nothing to focus on but counting reps made for a much more agonizing workout experience than having my trainer there to guide me.
As I started to see the benefits of slow but steady progress in a pressure-free and consistent setting, I was thinking of how the same kind of model could help creatives. The discipline it takes to follow through on your art is not that different to what it takes to follow through on a fitness or meal plan.
What’s worse: Creative Block or Workout Block?
Even though working out with a trainer was more pleasant and personalized, exercise is still not my favorite thing. I’m very likely to choose anything but exercise if given the choice.
Now isn’t it funny what happens when I try to work on creative projects? Suddenly, lacing up my running shoes doesn’t sound so bad. Heck, even the things we like to do take a little convincing to get us started.
Starting a new workout routine or habit usually comes with the “Wow, this blows” period as your formerly inactive body protests this sudden and uninvited change. Along with that can come a flood of emotions: embarrassment or shame about your body, memories of bullying and rejection, fears that you’ll never get into the shape that you want, frustration with where you’re starting, and all kinds of flavors of beating yourself up. I remember hitting that wall in the middle of intense workouts and wanting to walk out of the gym and never return, because if getting started was this bad, what made me think I could grow to like it?
For a long time, I had a similar experience every time I sat down to write. Instead of following my inspiration, I wound up wallowing in feelings of inadequacy, doubt, and fear. I poured thousands of words into journaling my way through these feelings, which was useful, but meanwhile, my creative ideas stacked up and gathered dust. My storyteller self still felt ignored. I read books on writing and the creative process, like The Artist’s Way (Julia Cameron) and Writing Down the Bones (Natalie Goldberg), and tried to follow their prompts and advice, but felt like I kept ending up back at square one with very little to show for my efforts. Even when I signed up for weekly classes, I’d end up panicking and bringing an old piece instead of committing myself to write something new.
What if I had had a coach? Someone who, essentially, wouldn’t let me get away with wallowing, and didn’t give credit for journaling when the assignment was a short story? Maybe it’s just because I was a teacher’s-pet kid, but I thrive with that kind of direct accountability and clear expectations.
Groups and gatherings have their place, and for that, there’s facilitation and classes. From what I’ve seen, students usually sign up for classes to get some direct benefit for themselves, not out of eagerness to teach and help each other - that’s the teacher’s job. And in a class of an hour or two, a teacher might be outnumbered 10 to1 or more! A creative coach, on the other hand, is in it just for you. Like a facilitator, they hold the space and set the tone, but you get an hour of direct attention instead of a slice of an hourlong class.
Look at all your favorite hero’s quests. Most of them had a companion or wise guide.
I’m looking at you, Frodo and Samwise. While there’s usually a part of the Hero’s Quest story lifecycle where the hero must find it within themselves to go it alone, most of the time, they’re making progress with the help of a companion - someone who has tried what they’re trying and learned from their failures, with wisdom to pass on. After all, someone has to be at their side during the grueling training montage, and there at the end to raise a cup to their victory.
I think of the creative journey as a quest toward your personal horizon. Everyone’s terrain is going to be different. Everyone starts from a different origin point, with different equipment, abilities, and experience. It is possible, or at least plausible, to get to the horizon on your own, and risk spending a lot of time and energy hacking your way through the woods. But there’s no shame in recruiting an ally.
Coaching starts with mapping your AXIS. “A” is your starting point and “X” marks the spot. “I” is your Inventory. “S” are your Skills. Then we look, metaphorically, at the terrain between Points A and X. Is it rocky or smooth? Are there roads that others have paved before you, or are you blazing a new trail? Are there rivers or canyons to ford, like a certification you want to complete? Bridges that need to be built, like that letter of recommendation you need? What resources and friends are available along the way, and where are the potential pitfalls? From there, we can start laying out a route, adding checkpoints, and establishing a timeline.
I borrow a little bit of inspiration for this from permaculture design, as well. The objective of permaculture design is to create a self-sufficient ecosystem that serves the needs of both humans and nature. The placement, maintenance, and sustainability of every element in the design matters to its overall success. Permaculture designers have to think in phases and look ahead in time to predict how their designs will mature over the season. Your creative quest map is another type of design where everything has a place and a purpose. And like an ecosystem, it’s a living thing. As it grows and changes, and the landscape shifts, you’ll need the strength to adapt and reroute with it.
Coaches don’t just point the way, they also help their players get stronger, faster, and better adapted to their sport.
As part of the Inventory and Skills analysis, we look at your assets as well as your gaps. If there’s an area you need to be stronger in, that will be added to your own personal training montage. You’ll get help assessing, prioritizing, planning for and (most importantly) following up on the things you’d like to improve. This might involve a little homework and exercise of the creative kind, but just like a personal trainer will gently stretch you past your comfort zone, a creative coach helps you expand your ideas of what you think you can do.
If you’d like to start a coaching relationship or learn more about how coaching could help you, head over to the Contact page and drop me a line. I work with clients myself and also have a wide network of partners, friends and associates with unique specialties, so if I’m not the right fit, I’d happily help point you in the right direction to continue your quest.
And if group settings are what you’re looking for, you’re in luck, because I do both. Check out my upcoming circleshops.
