Tracy Calder
It’s difficult to find room for creativity when our minds are full of monkey chatter. Practising mindfulness can help
Mindfulness is the art of paying attention. It sounds simple, but the reality is quite different. Let’s take reading this week’s issue of AP, for example. Having secured your copy from a newsagent, supermarket, dog’s jaws – you sit down for a quiet read when numerous thoughts come rushing into your head. ‘Why are Digestives considered the best biscuits for dunking?’ ‘Where is that awful draught/smell/noise coming from?’
The human mind loves distractions and will happily lurch from one thought, feeling or emotion to another without pause. The trouble is when our minds are full of monkey chatter we fail to experience, or really appreciate, the present moment. Going back to our AP example, we might find ourselves at the end of an article only to realise we haven’t taken in a single word.
When we create photographs we are often plagued by monkey chatter, but this time it comes with a generous helping of self- criticism. We might be standing at the foot of a beautiful mountain, for example, with our mind full of judgmental self-talk. ‘ Why didn’t I wear warmer clothes? I’m such an idiot.’ ‘If Joe Cornish were here he would know which filter to use.’ This self-talk can be destructive and takes up valuable headspace that might otherwise be used for creative thoughts. When we become mindful we create a gap in the thinking process, which allows flashes of perception to rise to the surface. The result is a deeper appreciation of the present moment – and more often than not, unique, meaningful pictures.
Unfortunately silencing the monkey chatter is impossible. If we try to stop the flow of thoughts forcefully they will simply increase in frequency. What we can do is to turn the volume down a bit. The first step is to recognise when our inner critic shows up, and to welcome it with open arms. Next we casually observe if there are any emotions attached to our intrusive thoughts. When the voice inside our head says, ‘I will never get the hang of landscape photography,’ for instance, we simply label it as frustration and then, crucially, we gently let it go. Our inner voice is keen to label everything as either good or bad and it’s hard to stay neutral, so we must practise this impartiality. With time the number of thoughts and associated emotions will gradually decrease, which will allow creativity and fresh insights to float to the surface.
To learn more about the therapeutic benefits of photography turn to page 20.