This is a scary moment. Not jumping-off-a-cliff scary. More the quiet, inner kind of fear creatives meet again and again -- beginning after a long silence. Beginning again after seasons of not knowing. Beginning before you feel ready.

In these chaotic, stressful times, it feels like the default setting is survival. We table the “creative stuff” for later—some undefined “someday” when things calm down.

Some days can feel tedious. To escape, you may be tempted to get online and scroll tropical beach vacations or snowy wonderlands. Ah, if only I could transport myself there tomorrow, you wish.

All we really need is to escape our own habitual thinking, if even for a few moments. To slow our inner chatter and let curiosity lead us to the other worlds right under our noses.

While many of us sigh longingly about wanting to go on a solo writing retreat,  usually it ends there. Better to keep it a far-off fantasy than an up close reality, right? If we actually GO, who knows what might happen!

Why do we write? It’s an age-old question, but I found a good answer recently. “The purpose of being a serious writer is to keep people from despair,” says Sarah Manguso. “If people read your work and, as a result, choose life, then you are doing your job.”

We all know how to create from emotional pain (Van Gogh, anyone?). But what is less discussed is creating from physical pain.

Some women think when they join my writing circles that I will be the fierce taskmaster to their reluctant inner writer. “If I don’t write,” they ask “will you pin me down to hold me accountable?” They think fear motivates. It does, until we rebel or find it just one more task we are kicking ourselves down the road to accomplish.

Sigh, I’m blocked. This blog and other writing has been on my to-do list, but when I try to sit down and write, the feeling is “blech.” No interest. I’d rather clean toilets.

I finally understand what my writing clients have been experiencing for years. They have gone from insisting they are not writers… until in a flash they understand, beyond words, that they are.

I had been looking forward to a week-long creative sabbatical for quite a while. It was time to begin my vision for the upcoming year. I saw myself slipping into the silence, doing some inspirational reading and writing, and listening as insights from my muse poured in. It seemed so simple.

Several years ago, I did something I’ve never done before. I got in my car and headed West. I had no set plan or timetable. There were no major catastrophes happening in my life. But I was still transitioning between an old me with kids at home to a new empty nest me, and I had no idea how that looked.

It’s hard being a Creative. Yes, it’s also fulfilling, enlivening and essential. But some days it’s dang tough to put yourself out there… again. There’s the tight feeling in your chest when you present something and don’t know if people will be more mesmerized by the fly on the wall than your words. Or when you write a personal memoir or blog and it feels like leaping out into the world naked. The tiniest stone thrown from a reader can hurt on exposed skin.

It seems we are all about “living our dream” nowadays, but there’s something about that wording that puts many of us on edge. We feel there is something wrong with us if we haven’t crystallized some big vision for our lives. Or if we aren’t immediately in touch with some bodacious, juicy passion that inspires singing on mountain tops.