Nurturing Your Creative Garden

Or: Why I'm Bad at Growing Things

FEATUREDWRITING

Emma G. McKee

8/24/20267 min read

It’s a well-known fact that I’m not the best at plants. I absolutely love them, of course— ferns and flowers, trees and…well, trees. Oh, and weeds. There are so many plants discarded as weeds that are actually quite beautiful, like dandelions or henbit deadnettle (also known as “fairy horns”, which I quite love).

Plants are also very important to me as a writer. I love learning about them and their tendencies so I can describe them vividly in my books (especially trees). I use them for symbolism and sometimes even as characters. There’s just something about the greenness of them all that really draws me to them, and I love it.

But growing them is a different story. In my daydreams of the future, I see myself completely surrounded by plants growing all inside and outside my cozy forest cottage. I want the climbing ivies, the ferns and mushrooms, the bonsai trees (a childhood dream of mine), and all the wildflowers you could possibly imagine. I want the little hanging baskets with leaves spilling out of them, twirling in the wind.

It’s a lovely dream, of course, but one that is not likely to come true, at least not for some time. Because the one plant that I have ever owned— an air plant, which looked like a clump of grass and was about as easy to take care of as one— died within a few months. My mother, who is very good at plants, took it from me just before it shriveled and tried to bring it back to life, but it was sadly beyond saving.

I have since been banned from owning plants.

Despite this tragic story, I have still continued to learn and grow in my plant knowledge (and perhaps one day I might be able to grow some plants without immediately killing them). And though I have no experience with this in practice, I do know that along with water and sunlight, plants need the right environment to grow.

Some plants require tropical climates, with lots of rain and sun. Others thrive in hardy climates and are true survivors. And of course, there’s always that one plant that can grow pretty much anywhere.

I’ve noticed that, as a writer, this same principle applies to those whose jobs require lots of creative energy, whether that’s writing, music, art, or one of the many other creative pursuits. No two creatives are the same, because we’re people. And people all need different things in order to grow.

Another well-known fact about me is that I am very ADHD. And while I don’t place my identity in what “neurodivergent condition” I have (unlike some people in this world) I can still say with honesty that it affects the way I write and live. I have a very short attention span. I get distracted very easily, and when given a list of things to do, I usually forget all of them but the first one.

Because of my unique mind, I’ve had to find ways to allow myself to function creatively. And I had to do it myself, through trial and error— borrowing someone else’s creative process wouldn’t help me any more than planting a daylily in a desert. I had to learn that for me, sitting down for hours at a time just doesn’t work, and I end up burning out. I also can’t have any distractions, so (sadly) I’m not one of those coffee-shop writers.

Instead, I found out that using the Pomodoro technique worked really well for me. I’ll write for around 25-30 minutes, and then take a 5 minute break to do something not creative, like playing a quick game on my phone or going on a short walk. It sounds counter-productive, but that’s the strategy that took me from forgetting I was even a writer to putting down over a thousand words a day— consistently.

But this strategy is the one that works for me. I’m the kind of plant that needs lots of attention to grow, or else I’ll procrastinate and never get around to growing flowers— or in my case, writing words. You might have a different strategy. Your strategy might be just not having one, and going with the flow. Or you might need a rigid routine, and checklists, and all the things that would send me spiraling just by looking at them. Every plant— and creative person— is different and requires different things to grow.

You might be reading this and thinking, “I don’t know what my perfect creative environment is” or “How do I find out what strategy works for me?”. The honest answer? I’m not sure. I can’t tell you what will work for you and what won’t. There’s no magic answer for everyone, which means you need to figure it out yourself.

But I can help you ask the right questions. For example, think about yourself and the way your brain works. There might not be a special acronym for your unique brain process, but you still have your own way of thinking, nonetheless. How do you approach certain tasks? Are they orderly and prioritized in your mind? Or does it feel like they’re fluttering around like birds and you’re reaching to catch them? What helps you do? And, what are the things that distract you? Keep you from doing what you want— and need— to do?

I’ve found that taking the Myers-Briggs personality test helped me a lot in defining the way I think. I’ve always loved trying to understand how people’s minds work, and so I’ve naturally gravitated toward personality quizzes of all sorts. But this one, the MBTI, goes much deeper than your standard “What Disney Character Am I?” or “What Harry Potter House Am I In?”. A lot of people have been able to discover more about themselves that they didn’t even realize before, just by spending a few minutes answering these questions. So seriously, if you’re struggling with figuring out what works for you, try the MBTI (I recommend the one over at 16 Personalities).

But nurturing your creative garden is about a lot more than finding that one process that helps you feel more creative or get more things done. After all, people who enjoy creative activities often have a lot of them. (One of my hobbies is actually hobby-collecting, so I’m sure you can imagine what my daily life looks like.) Trying to juggle between writing five different books, learning an instrument, finishing that painting, reading your stack of library books, and “oh, I forgot I’m crocheting this sweater”— not to mention the ten different hobbies you haven’t touched in years— is a real problem, and one that a lot of people face.

And that’s not counting your actual job— you know, the one you spend eight hours (or more) a day on, the one that sucks out all your creativity and leaves you wanting ice cream and sleep and to drive far, far away and never come back.

Creative people face burnout a lot. And while there’s a lot of posts out there that talk about how to avoid burnout, or how to get back into something when you’re burnt out, there aren’t really very many that tell you how to nurture your creative mind so that burnout won’t happen in the first place.

You see, when you’re doing something creative with your brain, it’s having to think a lot harder than we realize. Creating is exhausting. My brother often asks me why I’m so tired at the end of each day when, in his words, “all you’ve done is write and read.” What he doesn’t realize is that writing is very draining, because I’m having to create a new story, a new world, new characters, dialogue— everything that comes with writing a book means making something new. Even words! I’ve made up so many new words for my book that I’ve had to create a dictionary so I don’t forget what they mean.

Compound that with five other creative hobbies, and you face the ultimate burnout— if you don’t nurture your creative garden.

Let me explain the metaphor. If one hobby— writing, for example— is a flower in your garden, all the other creative pursuits you have are also individual flowers, and all of them make up a diverse, unique garden. Different flowers might be at different stages of growth, and some might be healthier than others (I’m looking at you, crochet sweater I forgot I was making). All of them require attention and nurturing to grow.

Your creative pursuits also require different things. They are all different flowers, and so one overarching strategy might not work for all of them. I have to write every day, using my Pomodoro technique and finding somewhere quiet, in order to nurture my writing. But for playing piano and crochet, I can be a little more spontaneous. They aren’t my biggest priority. And for watercolor (which I’m just starting to pick back up) I’d like to paint at least one day a week, perhaps more, but my schedule for that isn’t super rigid just yet.

When you’re looking for that perfect routine or strategy, don’t overlook your other pursuits just to nurture one of them. Having lots of different hobbies can be really good for your mind if you learn how to manage them. For example, instead of writing for 25 minutes and taking a break for 5, I could just swap back and forth between writing my story and doing a watercolor painting, or playing piano, or finally finishing that sweater. For me and my brain, that would keep me focused and productive.

For you, that might look like pausing a stressful job and doing something calming, like watercolor therapy, that exercises the creative side of your brain. Or it might look like devoting one day a week to a certain hobby.

How can you balance your creative pursuits in order to nurture your garden? What can you do to experiment and find ways to enrich your life with creativity?

Having creative hobbies— and jobs!— is a gift. You are the only person who can create that specific thing or look at something in that specific way. But having those creative pursuits is like having plants. They need a lot of attention in order to flourish, and all of those plants are different. It’s the task of a creative to find what helps them grow in their skills and balance their creativity.

So, nurture your garden. Perhaps (if you’re better than me at plants) something wonderful might grow out of it.

See you among the shelves,