Hello,
First day of fall, folks! And as you know, I am not happy to let this summer go. It’s been a good one. But time marches on, and the only constant is change.So here we are.
Yesterday, I spent part of Yom Kippur in synagogue. I love the familiar songs, rituals, the feeling of knowing I’ve done this my whole life—as have generations before me.
There’s something powerful about taking a day to remember what matters. To look at where we’ve gotten off track. To consider our values. To repair what needs repairing and reset our intention to do better.
A little moral-and-values fall cleaning, if you will.
Towards the end of Yom Kippur, as the sun sets, we have a chance to stand in front of the open ark and say a prayer. A prayer for the year ahead. Make a commitment to grow or to heal. Pray loved ones who are sick. Express compassion for situations that are difficult.
But this year I did something different. I didn’t ask for anything. I opened a channel.
The channel invites creativity.
I’ve had the privilege of working with many creative professionals over the years, and one thing I’ve learned from the musicians, writers and creators who’ve invited me into their lives is that when they make some of their most resonant work, they don’t feel like they’re doing all that much.
They open up, get quiet and make space. And then they let something run through them.
My clients call this channeling. Creating enough space to listen and hear and flow. They describe it with great humility; they tune into the channel and record what comes through.
I am currently reading The Creative Act by Rick Rubin and my god, I am HERE FOR IT. He has a whole philosophy around this process of channeling.
I discovered him on an Ezra Klein binge while traveling this summer, and let me admit: I am late to the party.
His way of looking at creativity (and really, at life) makes intuitive sense. And it tracks beautifully with what I’ve experienced with some of my most prolific and creative clients. Also, as a record producer he opened channels for Beastie Boys, LL Cool J, Black Sabbath and Johnny Cash. The man’s got range.
Plus, Rick grew up in Long Beach, Long Island, about 20 minutes from where I grew up. We’re simpatico.
Fall is an invitation to quiet and create.
Summer is when we tend to go outside our known worlds. We adventure and explore, invite in the new. Fall and winter are when we come back in. Snuggle close. Return to ourselves, incorporating the growth of summer.
Fall and winter can be periods of return, and reflection, a time to integrate, create and prepare for what comes next.
Say what you will about the Northeast and our anxiety-filled mojo, but I love the purposeful beat of the seasons. They remind us to ramp up, explore, quiet down, restore.
Rick Rubin’s idea of creating a welcome space for creative channeling resonates. As my most prolific and creative clients have shared. Creating isn’t effortful. It’s getting quiet enough to notice what wants to emerge instead of forcing, pushing and producing.
You are creating too. You are designing your life.
So as we head into fall, what do you want this season to look like?
Restore? Repair? Create? Explore?
Get quiet? Get busy?
Whatever you choose, don’t be passive about it.
Do it with intention. And then open the channel.
Allison
