Rosanne Bane is a creativity coach and author of Dancing in the Dragon’s Den: Rekindling the Creative Fire in Your Shadow. She’s coached writers, artists, musicians, performers and other creative people to move through resistance to achieve their creative dreams. She has taught creative process classes at the Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis and in the University of Minnesota’s Complete Scholar program. She’s written hundreds of articles in diverse publications and is seeking an agent for her upcoming nonfiction book, Write Anyway: How to Keep Showing Up for Your Writing No Matter What! and her science fiction novels, The Essential Path and Freedom Path. You can visit her website www.RosanneBane.com for more information or email her.
You’re a creativity coach. What does that mean?
It means I’m privileged to have talented writers, artists, musicians, performers, healers and other creative people trust me with their deepest challenges and their greatest joys. When I’m at my best as a coach, I listen empathically and ask questions that give the client an ‘a-ha’ insight into her or his life and creative process. I meet my clients where they are, without judgment, and encourage and support them to get where they want to be as writers and artists. When clients do what they said they were going to do, we celebrate the success and talk about how to stay motivated and keep moving. When clients don’t do what they said they were going to do, I help them recognize their resistance and work with them to develop strategies to overcome that resistance.
How can creativity help combat the Inner Critic?
Creativity is all about facing critics – inner and outer. Criticism is deadly to creativity because it prevents us from acting from our creative brain, our cortex. This is the part of the human brain that can imagine what doesn’t exist yet and make plans to transform dreams into reality. When we self-motivate, when we take action to change the future, we’re drawing on capacities of the cortex.
Criticism causes stress and makes us feel threatened, which switches the cortex offline and turns the limbic brain on. The limbic brain is our instinctual, fight-or-flight brain. The limbic brain doesn’t care about being creative; it just wants to avoid the threat. We regret not being creative or berate ourselves for not being creative, but the truth is, we can’t be creative when the limbic brain is running the show.
Have you ever had clients who have such a strong Inner Critic that they are completely stuck in a particular area of their life?
Yes. I see so many people who want to write or paint or make music or create in some way who spend far too much time thinking about it, talking about it, feeling guilty about it, and never actually doing what they love to do.
The deer-in-the-headlights feeling that so many people get when they sit down to write or create is classic limbic brain response. Mammals always freeze when threatened. Then the limbic brain decides whether to stay and fight or to run away. The urge to leave the desk or the studio, to go do something else, anything else, to sort your sock drawer or check your email or seek answers in the fridge are all variations of the flight response. Forcing yourself to sit there and face the blank screen or the blank canvas is a variation of the fight response. Because it’s part of the fight response, it’s often accompanied by self-criticism or criticizing others. And that criticism coming from the limbic brain’s fight response can be dangerously nasty.
To be able to consistently write or create, you have to learn to relax, which turns the limbic brain off and brings the creative cortex back online. Helping people figure out their own unique way to relax and stay calm in the face of the Inner Critic or an external critic is a big part of my work as an instructor and coach.
Is there hope for people with insanely brutal Inner Critics?
Absolutely.
How do you help people who can’t see what they are doing to hold themselves back?
I tell my writing students and clients that if they want to write well, they have to be willing to write badly. To write well, you have to write. To write at all, you have to be willing to write badly. It’s true for all forms of creative expression.
You never know, on any given day, whether you’re going to write/create great stuff or produce total and complete garbage. You have to show up anyway. One day you find gold. Another day you just shovel muck. You have to put in a certain number of days shoveling the muck to find the gold. And you never know what you’ll find on any given day: gold or muck. You have to hold the intention that you will write or create something wonderful and at the same time have no expectations or demands that today’s work will be any good at all. Expectations open the door for the Inner Critic. Demands are the language of the Saboteur.