Beatha Coaching

I have been writing every day for November over on substack, in an online research diary. The daily substacks give little insights into my thought processes around the writing part of my life, ranging from notes on a research idea to my frustration at a disrupted evening when I had planned to write (this blog actually). It has been an insightful experience, challenging a number of the preconceptions and stories about writing I had been carrying around with me. In this blog I am going to explore the ways in which a practice like writing may accrue negative connotations, and some tools to begin to dismantle writing blocks.

How we see writing

The associations we give to writing, or any form of creativity, can come from many different sources. The idea of the tortured artist, for example, was well nourished by the romantic poets, as well as numerous more recent examples celebrated in school curricula. But substance abuse and striding over the moor aside, finding writing hard is also both acknowledged and simultaneously derided in academia, a very different form of creativity but creativity nonetheless (a point made by the wonderful writer and creative coach Elizabeth Gaubert in this interview). Academics tend to take a performative pride in the ‘great struggle’ of writing, staying late in the office and working on weekends; at the same time, discussion of writer’s block, writer’s anxiety, or simply finding it hard or boring, is kept to a minimum, so that those who experience struggles can feel isolated and ashamed. Shame, indeed, is an emotion that often seems to accompany writing – shame for not writing enough, not writing well enough, for struggling to write.

Moving beyond these cultural tropes, how we see writing is usually deeply connected to past experience. The amygdala encodes painful early life experiences particularly strongly – our brains are simply in a more malleable state during our school years. The shame of dyslexia or adhd, perhaps, or being bad at spelling tests, or simply having that teacher who chose you to be the focus of their contempt or lack of interest, could all be valid reasons why our minds associate writing with struggle and torment. On the other side, perhaps it is the legacy of having been the one who could write that is now causing paralysis, fearing a failure that would feel devastating after a childhood identity built (primarily by others) around being the ‘smart one’.

There is also the reality of context. Many struggling writers can actually write, with ease and grace and clarity, but fail to recognise how their situation affects them. Another cultural trope perhaps – if we have ‘talent’ it should always be there; to fail to write easily is a personal weakness. But as Helen Sword (2017) has pointed out, “air and light and time and space have everything to do with it” (x). Writing is a challenging neurological process requiring the dynamic interplay of two main systems, memory and control, that usually work in complement to one another. As we sit at our laptops or notepads and form words, we need both our bilateral hippocampus to recall the past and imagine the future, and our dorsolateral prefrontal cortex to engage executive functions including selective attention and language, simultaneously. Now let’s factor in other components, such as constant interruptions, being in reactive mode from teaching, time pressure, anxiety about an upcoming meeting, and having not had enough sleep/exercise/food/daylight because it is term time and November. When we are in survival mode, asking our brains to keep us alive in a challenging setting, we have less resource available to fuel complex processing like writing. Suddenly it seems more like a miracle that we are ever able to write a word, doesn’t it…

Changing the narratives

If writing has become associated with negative experiences, our brains and bodies will always throw up road blocks when we try to write. The alarm system in the amygdala will send a signal to the adrenals and our bodies will start to feel tetchy, uncomfortable, anxious or dulled. These physical reactions happen faster than conscious thought, so by the time our prefrontal cortex kicks in to tell us that writing is not an inherently dangerous occupation, we are already in flight or freeze. To overcome a fear of writing then, we need to start to change the way our brain associates it with risk. The root connection between an action and a feeling is stored in the basal ganglia, the part of the brain involved in decision making, voluntary movement and action selection, as well as reward and motivation. If an activity feels good we are more likely to go back to it. This can be true for unhelpful activities as well – if we find we feel better when we avoid writing, the sense of being rewarded for not writing can become stronger than the drive to write. To come back to writing as a positive, we need to both reduce the sense of risk and make it a pleasant rewarding activity.

1. Regulate – our nervous system state will influence our motivation. If we are in a threat state already (fight/flight/freeze) our brain is operating from the limbic system more than the prefrontal cortex; our responses will be reflexive and designed to remove us from danger. In this state it is very hard to start to form new associations or practise new habits. So the priority is to bring our nervous system back into a calm relaxed state before we try and write. You could do this in a number of different ways – change the setting if the location is affecting you; reduce the bar so you are aiming for the absolute minimum; practice physical techniques like breathwork or yoga that reduce cortisol levels naturally; engage your senses to feel safe eg – scents, temperature, light, sensations, taste, sounds.
2. Practice compassion – associations build up over time, and may be deeply embedded. You cannot simply force your way through a threat state, these are reflexive responses learned through negative past experiences. Instead, practice gentle supportive compassion and recognise that relearning your associations with writing can take time and patience. Keep the bar low for what you expect from yourself. And observe your thought processes, looking out for unhelpful thinking styles that indicate unrealistic standards, eg – I failed today so why even try tomorrow; I’ve frozen again, I’ll never be able to write; I’m clearly just lazy; I knew this wouldn’t work… Instead, set yourself up for success with compassionate, realistic expectations, eg – this is a challenging activity, I will only try for 15 minutes of writing today; some words is better than no words, there is no minimum requirement; fuck the deadline, just keep writing…
3. Reduce the barriers – there are lots of reasons why it can be hard to break through old associations and form a positive new habit. If you are struggling, check and see if any of these are affecting you: a depleted tank from other activities; a goal only focus (finish the book!) rather than a focus on positive outcomes and personal values (I want to write this because…); no systems (how can writing become an easy part of your everyday?); same environment (negative associations surround you); no support (you need community and cheerleaders); too vague (measures for success keep you from unrealistic expectations); relying solely on willpower (will lead to burnout and does not produce positive feelings, what is a better motivator?); inner critic (listening to the protector part that wants to keep you from risky behaviour, come back to your values and realistic goals); overwhelm (you have so much else going on, if writing is going to fit in it needs to do so in a supportive life-giving way).
4. Titrate – too much, too soon, too fast can all dysregulate our nervous system and push us right back into a threat state. If you are struggling with writing and long-held associations, bring change in slowly and by increments. Start will small goals and get comfortable there before you increase. Remember that with well established negative feelings, some echoes of past experiences will always remain. You may never be completely free from an urge to procrastinate, or a hatred of deadlines, or a fear of criticism. But you can reduce your reactivity to these feelings so that they are background noise rather than paralysing experiences. This will happen little by little as new connections form in the brain associating writing with positive feelings like self-worth, comfort, and achievement. If you feel pulled back into old threat states or coping strategies, check yourself and slow down again.

If you are an academic writer and feel like you struggle with negative associations that slow down or stall your progress, in Beatha Coaching Community we meet weekly for a writing hour of mutual support and quiet work. We also have a monthly group coaching session to work through blocks and problems in a more detailed way, and regular workshops. To join the community or find out more visit The Anxious Academic page on my website.

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