Travel as Creative Companion

Over the last year, as I’ve been crafting (and re-crafting) The Penny Book (as I am currently calling it), I’ve had the opportunity to travel. Earlier this year, we spent a month in New Zealand and another month in Australia. It was, indeed, the trip of a lifetime! We saw so much and learned a lot about places we had never been before. I feel quite fortunate to have had that experience.

In addition to that incredible adventure, we also took a US-based road trip and are heading out on another one soon. As we prepare for our next adventure (this time through Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and Montana), I’ve been more consciously thinking about how a change in scenery supports my creative efforts. That is, I’m pondering how past travel has supported my writing and how this upcoming trip can serve to move The Penny Book forward. I’d like the experience of new places and new things-to-do to contribute to the book, not be a super-fun way to avoid the hard work of creating. (I can find enough ways to procrastinate and dodge the blank page on my own!)

On the beach in Australia.

I think the primary value of travel (beyond the obvious fun and adventure of it all) is the opportunity to get out of my usual left-brain, logical, literal, super-organized way of approaching things. While these ways of thinking and being are effective and help me accomplish things in my life, they can get in the way of the creative process. Writing, I continue to learn, is not something that can be forced.  It doesn’t necessarily adhere to deadlines. The words, ideas, and meaning all need space to come forth. They can’t be forced…they can only be allowed.

When we’re on the road, we do a lot of outdoor activities: Hiking, Biking, Kayaking, Paddleboarding. This kind of physical exertion gives my logic-heavy brain a break; it seems to help me access a more right-brain self. Creative ideas flow, new thoughts surface, and answers to perplexing questions can arise. As an example, the idea for even attempting my dog’s memoir (the book I’m working on now) came to me while on a hike in the forests of Oregon. The “outline” emerged as I trudged through the trees.

So, for this upcoming trip, I plan to set a specific intention focused on a conundrum or two (or more?) I have with the completion of this book. I’m going to ask the questions of myself, let them go, then see what wisdom arises as I’m out and about. And, of course, I’ll capture whatever comes up in my journal.

There are all kinds of exercises and practices we can do to access our right-brain, creative selves. Some of them, like dancing, Qi-Gong, and gardening, are physically demanding. (Here’s a link to an interesting article with a bunch of other ideas, too.) I haven’t seen any scientific evidence supporting a specific connection between outdoor physical activity and the right brain. I just know that, for me, being outdoors somewhere beautiful, engaged in a challenging, fun activity, gets me out of my head.

That place, it seems, is where true creativity lives.