TOUGH LOVE: Just because you love your work doesn’t mean it isn’t tough.

Margaret Heffernan
4 min readNov 12, 2017

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Both of my children have chosen artistic careers and this is the choice most of their friends have made too. They are young, energetic and passionate about their work. They didn’t choose this life because they wanted fame or fortune; they love music, theatre, film, dance, painting and want to make their contribution.

But loving their work doesn’t stop it being tough. They continue to confront questions and dilemmas that their technical, professional training never addressed. As I’ve listened to them explore these issues, I thought that their questions and our discussions might be helpful to other young artists. So this blog is for all of them.

Q: I feel the need to take things in all the time. I always find I’m using references from films, books, from paintings and I want to stock my mind with more and more. Having knowledge is useful — but when everything is material, how do you get time off? When your work is life, how do you stop working?

Such a brilliant question. Artists are receptors, their minds febrile networks of sensors that absorb and process images, information all the time. It’s exhilarating, instinctive and important. It’s also why many writers and painters say that it is when they’re working that they discover what’s already in their minds. Experiencing life at this level is what artists do and it’s great you recognize this — but it is also exhausting. When even the dullest subway train of tired commuters can provide inspiration, it is hard to switch off. Is there anything better than drugs and alcohol?

Sure. Try swimming: immersive, comforting (if the water’s not too cold) and you can’t write, paint, sing or play any instruments while you’re doing it. The rhythm of swimming can be almost hypnotic — and it’s good for you. While you swim, you are processing all the information you’ve absorbed, but you’re not adding to it. What you are doing is bringing some order to the jumble. Swim alone; it’s a rubbish social activity anyway. Solitude is vital for artists — of any age.

If you live near parks or countryside, walks are great too. Again the rhythm is helpful. Walking with friends can spark tremendous conversations, not least because, walking side by side, there’s no eye contact — so you often find the talk is freer, more discursive. I have friends who love running tracks for the same reason: because it’s dull.

What are the signs of your imaginative overload? You may feel pretty hyped-up, as though you’re running on a treadmill set at a speed just a bit too fast. You can find you’re taking deep, irregular breaths, big sighs. That’s because you’re so tense that your breathing has become shallow and you are, literally, running out of air. If you are not a musician, sing along to favourite tunes: this will make you breathe better and it will cheer you up. If you aren’t a dancer, dance while you’re cooking. You probably have a few movies, albums, books that are old friends: familiar, comforting. Cuddle up with those, with something old not new.

Be aware of yourself. Start to notice when you’re getting overloaded. Sometimes a production schedule makes it hard or impossible for you to take a break. If you can, walk home — don’t drive, bike or commute: walk. Let your mind unwind. If you have to take a train, stare out the window. When you get home, take a bath (if you have one) or stay longer than you need to in the shower. Go to bed with a stupid magazine and browse for awhile before going to sleep. It’s good to feed your mind, but it needs time to digest. In the morning, when you wake up, just lie there. Think about the day ahead before getting up. Enjoy the pause.

Above all: don’t panic . Giving your imagination time off won’t mean it stops working. You’re just giving it time to catch up and recover. You aren’t slacking, your brilliant ideas and insights won’t stop: they will improve. Remember that you are doing the work because you love it. When you love a person, the perfect relationship isn’t a permanent torrid embrace; it requires solitude, quiet, absence too. That’s when meaning creeps in.

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If you’re a young artist, please feel free to post questions or suggest topics, as well (of course) as add your own thoughts and suggestions.

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Margaret Heffernan
Margaret Heffernan

Written by Margaret Heffernan

CEO of 6 businesses, her book WILFUL BLINDNESS was called a classic; her TED talks have been seen by over 12 million people. UNCHARTED is her new book.

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