Anxiety versus Creativity

This month I’m exploring the notion of creativity and anxiety, and how they cohabit in a writer’s life. It’s a radical premise proposed by sociologist Martha Beck in her new book, Beyond Anxiety, which I can highly recommend if you’re bothered at all about the world (or your life in it) right now.

Beck discovered that creativity and anxiety are actually mirror images of each other in our brains. We can choose which to feed. Such a big take-away for me, that brought renewed awareness of how my writing—in fact, anything creative that I do—lowers my anxiety.

It’s almost automatic. Beck’s book has the science that explains why.

Anxiety is something I’ve worked to manage most of my life, and now it only sweeps me away when I tune in to what’s happening in the world or when I’m facing a big personal risk. But since I read Beck’s book, I’ve been opting to manage anxiety via a shift in attention: Making my creativity a focus.

Big unknowns bring anxiety

This post won’t nearly do justice to what Beck has discovered and worked with, in her practice and in her own life, so I recommend the book if this idea tickles you. But even reading the first few chapters made me realize how much big unknowns create helpless feelings in me. Helplessness, in my world, can either lead to a kind of surrender and letting go, if I’m lucky. Or it can lead to new ideas on what to do about it, to make me feel more empowered. Or, if I’m really swept away, helpless feelings contribute to anxiety.

With the world around us becoming more and more of a big unknown, I have to work hard to keep the joy bubble alive, as a good friend puts it. Focusing on my creative life as much as I can is great medicine, and now I know why.

I was always intrigued by the dream state of creating. How I could be immersed in my writing or art and hours would go by. Time was irrelevant. Worries that clouded me that morning were swept away while I was creating—or they downshifted in influence and power as they got transformed into a story or a painting.

I am aware how little influence I have on the unknowns in my life, at this age and world reality. But I am able to influence their effect on me.

My go-to for counteracting the anxiety has always been planning. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Planning Pros and Cons

One big unknown this past winter was my spouse’s major surgery. We’re both in our seventies, so it’s not a lightweight experience. Months leading up to that event were full of careful planning: What could we anticipate and take care of ahead of time?

I cooked and froze meals; we signed up friends and family to help before, during, and after; I scheduled all routine appointments beforehand so our calendars were empty; the house got a thorough cleaning, the car got maintenance, the dogs got their nails trimmed.

I have an attitude of plan for the best, expect the worst.

The actual surgery was amazingly smooth, as the recovery has been so far. We ate the meals I’d made, friends brought more meals and helped with laundry and dog care as needed, nobody demanded anything of us. Home free, I thought.

Then I got vertigo! It landed me in bed for three days in the middle of it all—the week after the surgery. I was unable to even get out of bed.

Thankfully, a dear friend volunteered to stay the week. She took care of both of us and our two dogs. She worked online from our house, did our laundry and cleaning, cooked, let the dogs out, even called her partner to shovel snow when we got hit by a blizzard.

I’d always wanted to spend more time with this friend, but our busy lives never allowed it. That “unplanned” event created the perfect opportunity, and we began having tea each morning and talking for an hour or more. I feel so close to her now—and I didn’t plan any of that!

An experience which taught me that sometimes complete surrender to an unexpected event leads to an outcome that makes you grateful in every way.

Creativity as medicine for our times

I’ve always known that art heals me. Many scientific studies confirm this. But I hadn’t really imagined my art, my creativity, could become my way out of anxiety. When I fail at planning for every eventuality, when life presents too many catastrophes to integrate and make sense of, art steps in as a way to reorient and regain stability.

I’m still in practice. I’m training myself to switch out of what Beck calls “the anxiety spiral” by engaging my creative self. So far, it’s been an amazing medicine.

Your Weekly Writing Exercise

Check out this wonderful interview with Beck on

Jane Ratcliffe

’s Substack, “Beyond.” (It’s in several parts, so read them all if you can.)

Begin paying attention to anxiety this week, if it plagues you, and seeing if you can switch focus to your writing. A lot more on how exactly to do that in Beck’s new book.