From the Editor’s Desk
Hey there creative people!
I start and abandon writing projects all the time, but stories are regularly on my mind. Like so many of you, my life is full. I run this creative business, have a full-time job unrelated to publishing, I’m a mom, I have pets, a newsletter that’s getting dusty, shows I haven’t gotten around to watching, books I want to read, and more corners of my house that need a good scrubbing than I want to admit. Oh, and as I type this, the dryer just sang me the song of clothes that need to be folded. It’s a lot to manage.

The busier I am, the more my own creative side gets stifled. Does anyone remember that Twilight Zone episode where the very busy man wanted to read, but never had enough time? It took a global apocalypse for the poor guy to have quiet time to spend with books. And then: a twist! I won’t give it away. That episode’s worth tracking down if you’ve never seen it.
Anyway.
My brain is constantly buzzing with the next thing and the next thing and the next thing. Five minutes wait time in the grocery line? Clean up my inbox. Half hour before I have to leave for work? Read a submission or two. Son sleeps in a little on the weekend? Get up early anyway to edit or schedule social media posts.
I’m the accountant and graphic designer and editor and social media manager and publicist around here.
Creative friends, it’s exhausting. And it works against me. The more I’m swirling around what I have yet to do, the less focused I am on what I’m supposed to be doing right now. I don’t particularly wish for the sort of apocalypse that leaves me as the only human left on Earth (argh, Twilight Zone spoiler! Too soon?), nor do I want to take any advice from the version of Stephen King who wrote a book a week in the 80s. When I found myself in the middle of adding a creative business into my already full life and feeling like I was drowning as a result, I needed something a little less drastic than a world-ending apocalypse or a new cocaine habit.
I needed to learn how live more in the moment.
Let me tell you, that sounds fluffy and obvious, but it is really hard. Like, REALLY hard.
My work with Hollow Oak often doesn’t include my own writing, but it’s a whole host of other types of creative output, and a busy brain with no downtime stinks at drumming up creative thoughts. Creativity thrives in a brain that is allowed to rest.
And I knew that, logically. There were (and still are) times in my every day life where I could allow myself brain-rest, if I could learn to live in those moments. I drive to work. I walk my dogs. I have little pockets of five or ten minutes here and there when I can let my thoughts just drift. The caveat is that, in order to do that, I had to learn how to press the pause button on the never-ending scroll of my internal to-do list.
I’m talking about mindfulness here. My gut reaction is to make jokes about hugging a tree and pass it off as silly and keep on keepin’ on with my overstressed, anxiety-riddled, next-thing-focused life. I didn’t (and still don’t) particularly like feeling that way, but it’s what’s comfortable because it’s what I knew. So I kept doing it. Because you know what’s more uncomfortable than feeling so busy that I’m reeling by the end of the day?
Yeah. It’s change. You guessed it.

So I had to make a choice. I had to either keep trying to outrun being busy and stress myself out to the point of illness, or learn to sit in the moment I’m in. I chose learning how to be mindful.
Ever go swimming? When it’s time to get in the pool, sometimes the water feels cooler than the air. Some people cannonball right in. Some people get in slowly using a ladder. Regardless of how I get in the pool, my body will adjust to the water temperature and within minutes it’ll feel just as comfortable as the air did.
Change is sort of like that. If you do the thing in a way that’s manageable for you, you’ll adjust. I promise. And after awhile, it’ll feel comfortable. It took me a long time and a lot of practice to figure out how to allow my brain to relax.
For me, a piece of this is about saying no. I can choose to say no to requests of my time, both from other people and from my own brain. I continue to have to make this choice every day.
Every. Day.
There’s always some deadline, or project, or shiny new thing that comes trotting by, making its demands on me. I don’t live the isolated creative life in a cozy cabin tucked away in the woods with my dogs and hours of uninterrupted time to write and edit.

So what does this look like, exactly? It’s super easy for me to slap down some words in a blog and tell you that you have time for what you *make* time for. I do believe that, by the way. I just don’t think it’s as easy as all that for a lot of us because making that choice means we have to give something else up. Maybe it’s TV binge watching. Maybe it’s a social commitment. Maybe it’s rearranging how you do your chores.
Maybe it’s asking for help.
When you do carve out the time (which is the easier part by the way) the next step is clearing your mind enough to let the creative process flow. If you know you only have an hour, how to do you turn everything else off to make the most of that hour?
Back to that idea of mindfulness and living in the moment. That’s how you do it.
It takes practice. You can acknowledge the other things, and let them go. Jot them down, if that helps. Tell yourself, “I’m here for this writing” or painting or cooking or whatever you’re doing and then DO THAT. When the intrusive busy thoughts pop back up, notice them, and go back to the creative thing. Over and over again until you get good at it.
“But I’m *too* busy! You don’t understand!”
Oh, I do. The feeling of being busy is just thinking about all the things you aren’t currently doing in this moment. You have to learn how to stop doing that and give yourself permission to focus on the thing you are currently doing.
So set aside your time, and practice using it. Practice knowing that, for this thirty minutes (or however long you have) all you need to be doing is your creative process. And that is VALID, folks. It’s just as valid to practice your creative art as it is to run the vacuum or fold the laundry or respond to your messages.
Find that balance, and practice it. If you want to learn more about how to do this, there’s loads of info out there. I’d recommend this article as a place to start. No matter how busy you are, no matter how much anxiety your brain feeds you, you can learn how to better manage these things and make time for what fuels you.
Just get in the pool. I promise you’ll adjust.

Amanda Pica is a writer and editor who also holds a Master of Science degree in Educational Psychology. Amanda has over two decades of experience working in community mental health, and has designed trainings on numerous topics in psychology, behavioral science, and writing. She is editor-in-chief of Hollow Oak Press, co-author of The Wordsmiths, and her short fiction has appeared in F(r)iction’s Dually Noted, Story Nook, Wyld Flash, and Humour Me Magazine. Amanda is the facilitator of Writer’s Flock, a writing support group in Oil City, where she lives with her son and two huskies.



