Braving Midlife

Somewhere along the way, we collectively agreed creativity should behave like a subscription service: reliable, weekly, and mildly impressive. If you don’t “ship” constantly, you must be broken, lazy, or (the horror) human.

But creativity isn’t a faucet. It’s an ocean. And oceans do not care about your content calendar.

Creativity has tides. You have been personally attacked by low tide.

There are days your brain is a fireworks show: ideas, momentum, solutions, spark. You’re unstoppable. You’re basically a genius with a to-do list.

And then there are days your brain is… a sleepy housecat in a sunbeam. Still alive. Still valid. Not interested in performing.

That’s not failure. That’s the cycle.

High tide: you’re making, finishing, connecting dots.

Low tide: you’re integrating, noticing, processing, quietly becoming better.

In-between: the work is normal, steady, and less glamorous…which is where most craft lives.

Trying to force high tide every day is like yelling at the ocean.

It’s cathartic, sure.

Also useless.

Ride the wave instead of wrestling it

When the wave is up, catch it:

Draft fast. Make a mess. Leave yourself breadcrumbs. Bank ideas for later, like a squirrel with a notes app.

When the wave is down, stay close to shore:

Do smaller, gentler tasks. Collect inspiration. Organize. Tinker. Revisit. Make “bad versions” on purpose. (Perfectionism hates this one weird trick.)

The goal isn’t constant output. The goal is consistent relationship with your creativity—even when it’s quiet.

Rest is not bed rot

Let’s get one thing straight: lying in bed scrolling until your soul leaves your body is not rest. That’s just your nervous system buffering.

Real rest is quieter and weirder. It’s the kind that doesn’t look productive, but somehow makes you feel like a person again.

Rest (the good kind) is:

less input

more space reflection

not avoidance

soft attention, not frantic distraction

It’s not “doing nothing” as a lifestyle. It’s ending the noise long enough to hear yourself think.

A quick test: does your rest return you to yourself?

Rest that restores usually leaves you:

clearer (even if still tired)

softer in your body less reactive more able to choose your next step

Rest that numbs usually leaves you:

foggier, restless , guilty,

like you time-traveled

and gained nothing but thumb cramps

No shame—numbing is a coping strategy.

But if you want creativity, you want the kind of rest that composts experience into insight.

Micro-rest that actually works

Try one of these when you’re depleted but don’t want to vanish into the feed:

1. The No-Input 20: 20 minutes with no consuming. Just tea, silence, staring, stretching, existing.

2. The One-Question Walk: Walk with a single gentle question. No answers required.

3. Five-Minute Brain Dump + One Kind Sentence: Spill everything, then end with “It makes sense I’m tired.” (Because it does.)

4. A Tiny Creative Touch: One sentence, one sketch, one note. Not a masterpiece

Small, quiet, consistent. Like watering a plant, not pressure-washing it.

The punchline

You are not a machine.

You are a tide-based organism with ideas.

The myth says: produce constantly or you don’t count.

Reality says: create, recover, reflect, repeat.

Rest isn’t the enemy of your creativity. It’s the part where your brain does the behind-the-scenes magic.

So if today is low tide?

Don’t panic. Walk the shoreline. Pick up something interesting. Let the water come back when it’s ready.

It always does.