Centering the Artist: Ritual & Writing

Julia Cameron, in her book The Artist’s Way, writes about building an artist’s altar. She says that “in order to stay easily and happily creative, we need to stay spiritually centered. This is easier to do if we allow ourselves to engage in centering rituals. It is important that we devise these ourselves from the elements that feel holy and happy to us.” She recommends creating a spiritual room or corner, a haven in a nook or on a window ledge, and filling it with things that feed your inner artist. It should be sensory, tactile, and celebratory. She says, “The artist child speaks the language of the soul: music, dance, scent, shells . . . Your artist’s altar to the creator should be fun to look at, even silly.”

Creativity and spirituality are directly linked. How we connect to ourselves, others, nature, and transcendence (Creator, Source, God) is connected to our creative selves. Centering ourselves spiritually helps us center creatively. 

Another meditative practice that Cameron uses and speaks of the most is Morning Pages. Artists around the world follow her guidance on this and have adopted this practice into their everyday lives. For Cameron, “Morning Pages are three pages of longhand writing, strictly stream-of-consciousness.” This practice doesn’t have to be pretty or artistic; it doesn’t even have to be coherent. It can be petty, mundane, imaginative, angry, boring, sad, or weird. It is free flow; you don’t stop to edit or even think. You just keep writing, even if you just write “I don’t know what to write” over and over till something else flows through you. Nobody looks at these pages; she recommends that you don’t even look at them until weeks have passed. 

There is no intention for the writing except to just write. It is a practice to get everything out that stands in the way of you and your artist, your creative self, that can be blocked by whiny, silly, depressing, boring thoughts and feelings. Write it all out each morning, without thought or self-criticism. This is not just for artists or writers; this is a meditative practice for all people and professions. Cameron says that “Morning Pages map our own interior. Without them, our dreams remain terra incognita . . . Using them, the light of insight is coupled with the power for expansive change.”

I began writing Morning Pages several years ago after a friend gave me Cameron’s book “The Right to Write.” The practice was incredibly helpful for me, but then I stopped writing them for a while because I almost feared what I would dredge up and uncover. I wasn’t in a good place, in many ways, and instead of using Morning Pages to help process and unblock, I just shut it down. After moving to Rwanda and adjusting to new rhythms and routines, I realized that writing Morning Pages was one of my top priorities. I have now been consistently writing again, and the difference is outstanding. I can keep up with the practice about seventy-five percent of the time. I can see the vast improvement in my own life by keeping up with it and prioritizing its place in my daily routine. 

I wake up early and do it first thing in the morning before I get distracted by other tasks. I typically sit on my front porch, with a glass of water and pillow creases still on my face. I write the date at the top and then just start writing. It is usually a recap of how I slept, a recount of what happened the day before, or something that stuck out to me. It is often mundane and incredibly boring. 

Sometimes I write questions I am pondering or challenges I am working through. I process and write at the same time, and it is jumbled, messy, and barely readable. I write about emotions or ideas on my mind, things I am frustrated about, or things I want to try out. I don’t typically write full three pages as recommended, but I usually spend about fifteen to thirty minutes each morning in this stream-of-consciousness writing. It gets out the random thoughts on my mind, so I can either leave them behind or steadily work toward something. Sometimes I have “aha” moments: clarity, ideas, solutions. 

I try not to think or self-edit, but just write whatever comes to mind and let it flow out, even the random, silly thoughts that pop up. Sometimes, each sentence is a different stream of thought; sometimes, the whole thing is one thought parsed out. There are no rules about what you write, but it should be handwritten for a certain amount of time or a specific number of pages, and preferably done in the morning. 

This practice allows me to engage in a form of active daydreaming, a meditative state that doesn’t restrict thoughts but lets them flow freely while capturing their essence. I find it is best done when you are between sleep and wakefulness, when your mind can wander and roam, revealing new truths and hidden insights. 

Morning Pages help you meditate and daydream as you move your hand across the page, much like a spell or rhythmic chant. The process leads you to an internal space that, if regularly practiced, will reveal new insights and old answers. I feel restless without this practice; it is essential for a healthy me—it allows me to center and connect with myself. 

You don’t need a fancy journal for this—I actually recommend that you don’t use one. You want something where you won’t feel guilty about rambling or writing about the chores that need to get done that day. This is one of the most rewarding practices I can recommend—for anyone and everyone. If you don’t think you have thirty minutes, start with five or ten and build up from there. Just wake up, show up, and write.

Another of my favorite activities is from Julia Cameron’s book The Artist’s Way, where she has you imagine five different lives you would like to live, then challenges you to take on one of those lives for a week. I think this is such a great exercise in imagination. 

When I first attempted this activity, I chose “healer” for my practice. During the week, I read Witchery by Juliet Diaz and Backwoods Witchcraft by Jake Richards, both of which had been on my reading list for a while, but I hadn’t prioritized them. 

I set up an altar in my house (described earlier) and performed several of the spells and practices they mentioned. I strung a rod above my kitchen table for drying herbs, which I later used in a foot bath spell that I molded to my resources. I took pieces that I was already interested in and had already utilized, and put them together into meaningful practice. 

I reimagined how I thought of my space, how I thought of myself in my space, and how I thought of the oils and herbs I already used. It was such a fun week that brought me joy through tangible actions and insights gained from new learnings. 

I highly encourage this activity from Cameron’s book. List five different lives you want to lead. Don’t hedge on safe bets; go wild! Then choose one to focus on for a week. It’s a simple yet powerful way to exercise your imagination—to step into the shoes of a different life and let yourself live in that space for a bit.