BY AARDE WRITES for WEEKLY VOLCANO 5/1/26 |
Hey Aarde,
I am an artist whose work has always depended on instinct, but lately my instinct feels buried. I’m finding myself stuck during a difficult creative season, which I rely on for income, and I’m afraid that I’m losing my relationship to my creativity. I get tight, nauseous, panicky, and then drained around certain projects and collaborators. I can’t tell if that means that I’m onto something true or if there is a problem I’m ignoring.
I mean, art is uncomfortable, and making it has usually been a way for me to process stuck emotions, but it feels different in my body. Different enough that I feel urged to determine, consciously, how to trust my intuition versus anxiety. How do I become better at listening to my body, and how do I tell if the resistance I feel is a warning, a boundary, or just fear of failing at art?
Signed,
Uncomfortable Artist
Hey Uncomfortable Artist,
It sounds like what you are describing isn’t a loss of your creativity but the uncertainty of how it has shifted. It isn’t inconceivable that we’ll have some growing pains, and learning how to ease them can make the journey easier.
So far, your body has been your collaborator; you’ve trusted it to guide you in expression, which has earned you a living. When your body recalibrates itself due to external or internal circumstances, you’re faced with a challenge to learn the new dialect in which it’s communicating.
Let’s untangle the fibers of your experience here. While the discomfort you’ve encountered in art has most likely felt raw, exposing, vulnerable, and expansive, it’s also had a flow, a sense of movement, with a release valve that creates tangible expression. I’d bet it’s often stretched you thin, but it hasn’t felt fundamentally threatening to your system.
The distinction you’ve described in your new feelings sounds more constrictive. Fear and intuition have similar effects, but a sense of urgency is usually a red flag.
Fear can manifest as a sense of urgency, a spiraling sensation, or intense pressure. At the same time, intuition has a steady persistence, tugging at you quietly, hoping to be seen or heard.
What is most interesting about our mind-body connection is that your body will provide insight into which is which when you pay attention to it in a calmer state.
As with many things, analyzing during a panic attack is not ideal. We as individuals must take the time to learn the language of our bodies.
I suggest taking time each day to do a quick body scan. You can find free guided body scans online; this opens the channel so you can better tune in when you need to most. Our bodies hold and emit frequencies, and just like old radio stations, if they aren’t tuned in right, they get stuck in static.
We call these channels chakras; you can consider them as conceptual groupings of nerve plexuses and endocrine glands, in which patterns of activity correspond to different emotional and physiological states.
* Root (base of spine, legs, feet): a sense of grounding or unease; safety vs. fear
* Sacral (lower abdomen, hips): fluidity or tightness; pleasure, desire, or guilt
* Solar plexus (upper abdomen, stomach): expansion or clenching; confidence or shame
* Heart (center chest): openness or heaviness; love, tenderness, or grief
* Throat (neck, jaw, throat): ease or constriction; expression or held-back truth
* Third eye (forehead, brow): clarity or pressure; insight or confusion
* Crown (top of head): lightness or disconnection; awareness or lack of meaning
Once you have an idea of what these regions represent, try the following exercise. When confronted with a decision you’re unsure about, sit quietly and close your eyes. Picture the request, then internally say, “no.” Scan your body to see if you feel a spot where energy has gathered. Notice the correlating region, its location, and the attached feeling. Try the exercise again, this time saying “yes,” and see what changes in your body. Notice where your body softens or shifts. This exercise is a way for your body to build trust in your agency.
Another fiber of your experience is the fact that you are an artist, and artists are generally taught to override themselves in the name of their work. But your sensitivity is not an obstacle; it’s an instrument.
Being left feeling panicked or depleted might not be a mere case of growing pains. It may be a boundary asking to be honored. I suggest you lie down, ask your body which is true, and meditate on what it tells you. Consider the sensations you notice, and maybe keep a body journal to see if there are consistent patterns.
And for a final fiber to unravel: when we rely on creativity for income, the relationship shifts, and the body can tighten under that weight. It may tighten when asked to produce, risking instability rather than exploring freedom of expression. I suggest being patient with this season of your life experience.
There is no rush to solve it all at once, so begin by noticing what your body is saying and gently reorganize your responses. Move slowly and try making art daily that is just for you, not tied to any outcome. You’ll start to see changes not only in how you feel but possibly in the art you create.
If you have a question for Ask Aarde, send it to jdaarde@gmail.com
