On one of those fortuitous days where everything lines up and you feel like magic is at hand, I attended a lecture by none other than Elizabeth Gilbert, author of the book Big Magic. 

I’ve been a fan of hers for a few years now, ever since a friend forwarded me her TED talks. Then, I read her book on creativity and inspiration, Big Magic, and listened to her (amazing) “Magic Lessons” podcast that was basically her being a creativity psychologist to struggling artists. (Note: I’ve yet to read any of her actual novels/memoirs. Gotta get on that!) This is all to say that she’s been on my radar for a while, and I’ve been wanting to see her in person.

But I knew nothing of this particular talk of hers, an hour away from me, until the very day it was happening. I booked a ticket—a VIP ticket—and I hopped in my car, all by my lonesome, to meet my inspiration guru. Literally.

You guys, I got to MEET and HUG her. She wasn’t doing autographs, but I have a signed copy of Big Magic anyway, so the two events can become one in my imaginative mind. She’s a beautiful and sparkling person, someone who just makes you breathe a sign and say, “ahhhhh.” You’re in the presence of someone full of light and soothing warmth, and I imagine this impact of hers is even more pronounced when she’s not grieving from recent personal loss.

I will forever kick myself for not going to a 3-day retreat hosted by her and her partner, Raaya (who is the person she lost because of  illness). I didn’t have anyone to go with, so I didn’t go. That hasn’t stopped me before, so I’m not sure why it did here, and I hate myself just a little for missing this amazing (and last) opportunity to see Liz and Raaya’s magic together. I’m proud of myself for going to this lecture because I didn’t actually WANT to go. Except I did; I just didn’t feel like it right at that moment. I’ve been struggling with sleep and motivation and other health things, so desire has not been high on my list of daily things I experience. But I knew that I should want to go, and so I did. And I’m so glad I did, because it was wonderful.

So, what did I learn from my inspiration guru that evening? I won’t give away all the details of her talk—you should go see her speak for yourself, of course!—but I will discuss the three top ones that I took away from her talk. 

I never know how to talk about someone I’ve briefly met/admire but don’t actually know. Liz? Gilbert? Ms. Gilbert? Since she presents herself as your friend and creates such an intimate space in her lectures, I’m going to refer to her as merely “Liz.” I don’t mean offense or to invoke some sense of familiarity that doesn’t exist; I just mean to call out my own awkwardness at everything in life and explain my choices.

So. Starting again. Liz spoke of three different topics dealing with finding the space, time, and inspiration to write (or do any artistic endeavor): priorities, boundaries, and mysticism (the spiritual kind, not the religious-denomination kind).  I’ll share one piece from each section I found the most useful.

Priorities: Early on in her “career” (or attempted career, at the time), Liz had an artist mentor friend that she looked up to and wanted to be like someday. When she was complaining about how her writing life wasn’t going anywhere, this friend asked her the single most important question Liz has been asked to this day, one of those shock-inducing revelatory statements that 180s your life in an instant: “What are you willing to give up to have the life you keep pretending you want?”

She continued with (paraphrasing): “From here, it looks like you’re pretending. You’re giving all your time to things that aren’t writing. Not jobs; those are necessary—but where does your free time go? Learn to not only say no to things you DON’T want to do, but to really succeed, you need to devote yourself and start saying no to things you DO want to do. Stop pretending and do the work. There are only so many hours in a  day, years in your life. You are only one energy source. Where will you put your energy?”

ZING. Everyone in the theater was silent, absorbing the stark truth of this statement. We had all complained about not having enough time, life moving too fast, not being where we want to be. Yet each and every one of us likely found this event through searching on Facebook, reading email, futzing around on the Internet. We were all guilty. And we needed to change either our goals, our definitions of ourselves, or perhaps the way we live our life and spend our time. Personally, the latter is much easier for me to do than giving up on my dreams and myself.

Boundaries: Each of these concepts feeds into the next, and once you’ve decided to honor your free time and do the work, next you must create a boundary around yourself that is untouchable by others so you can utilize that time. Make writing sacred. Make yourself sacred. Draw a circle around you and decide that you are the most important thing.

A wonderful statement to tell to yourself whenever you feel unimportant or unworthy of being your own sacred object, or your difficulties in life are getting you down: “For reasons never to be known, I was given stewardship over this life, over this being, over this person who arrived at this moment in history with this consciousness and these talents and these difficulties into this family at this moment in time, and all I know for sure is that this one’s my responsibility. And I’m going to draw a circle around it, and it’s sacred.”

How can you ever create and be true to yourself if you’re letting other people and situations eat at you? Focus on yourself and your work. You have this one life, and you have a purpose within this life. Find it and bring it to fruition.

Mysticism: My absolute favorite quote of the evening—and everyone’s, based on the audience reaction of “oh’s” and “ooh’s” and “ahhs”—was about magic, courtesy of Liz’s friend Martha Beck: “Magic is the next thing that wants to happen.” 

Just think about that for a moment. Spiritual people, shamans, people who seem like they have an additional “sixth sense” to the world around us, these are all people who are calm and relaxed enough to be in tune with this energy and aligns themselves with that. They have an advanced sense of what now wants to happen, and they live their lives in accordance with that.

How down-to-earth and real does that make magic appear? How attainable does that feel now? We all have gut feelings and instincts that we can’t explain, and this explains it. For writing or creating, we all get ideas from who-knows-where and it feels downright magical. We all know when we unearth something in the story that feels outside of ourselves and beyond ourselves. We know when the story is right, when we’ve uncovered the truth of it—only if we remove ourselves, our egos, our fears, and our doubts from the equation. When we trust in ourselves and the universe and just CREATE. 

This pretty much sums up my awe-inspiring night, and I encourage anyone and everyone to read Liz’s book Big Magic (and listen to her podcast, even though she sadly seems to not be doing it anymore. The existing episodes are fantastic). And go see her speak in person, if you are ever given the chance! I’m forever grateful I had the wherewithal to go and know that I should go even though I wasn’t particularly feeling like leaving the house at the time. Thank you, Universe, for taking care of me when I cannot.

I will end in the place that Liz began, because I loved her opening. As she came out onto the stage and welcomed us all, we felt the warmth and acceptance in her voice. The desire in it to help us find a way to create the work of our souls. And then, when she ended, she said, “Let’s go. Let’s tell stories,” we all wanted to be in it with her, to share our experiences and to hear her wisdom. 

So, I’m telling you that now, because that’s what I’m doing with this blog—telling stories. My stories, my views, of course, but I want to hear YOURS in return. I want to know about who you’ve met that either changed your life, or the reverse of that, like this one was for me: finally meeting someone who had already changed your life. Tell me about your day, the good and the bad. The time you created something you were proud of; the time you were convinced you had failed.

Come on this journey with me and LET’S TELL STORIES.