Can’t Create? Maybe Creativity Isn’t the Problem.
What energy work might have to teach us about creative flow
Rick Rubin describes creativity as a kind of generative energy. He talks about artists almost like antennae: receptive enough to pick up the signal, sensitive enough to notice it, and open enough to let it become something.
I’m sure you’ve all experienced at least a glimpse of the elusive state he describes: a song that wrote itself, an idea that seemed to come from another world, a vision for a project that only came through once you stopped trying. Until suddenly, it felt less like you were creating and more like the vessel for some magical transmission.
And this is where your world gets very interesting to someone from mine.
I’m a Reiki practitioner and energy intuitive. Flow, receptivity, sensitivity, energetic movement, clearing noise so a subtler signal can be heard: you’ve just wandered straight into my professional vocabulary.
Because from where I sit, creative flow is an energetic state in its own right.
A big part of my everyday work is essentially unblocking the unseen: finding what has stopped flowing, getting curious about what’s underneath it, and creating the conditions for movement again. So while inspiration may never be something we can summon on command, I believe we can become much more intentional about cultivating the conditions that make creative flow easier to access — using some of the same strategies I use every day for unblocking its energetic cousin.
Sound interesting? Then come on through.
Emotion... but not in the way you think
When assessing blocked energetic flow, one of the first places I’d look is emotional safety. In other words: is the system resourced enough to process what is asking to move through it?
Not because you need to be calm, happy or healed to make good art. Grief, rage, longing and heartbreak have always been creative material. Sometimes creating is how we process them.
The problem is more often capacity.
Grief you might once have been able to write your way through feels very different when it’s sharing space with a deadline, self-criticism, relationship stress, and how much meat and butter now cost.
Sometimes there’s simply too much trying to move at once for your usual pathway into expression to feel accessible.
Other times, the emotion itself has become one big charged thing. You know you’re angry, anxious, flat or stuck, but not necessarily what sits underneath it. And sometimes it’s the size of what lies beneath that is amplifying what you’re experiencing now, turning emotions you could usually ride like waves into something you’re suddenly tumbling between.
These are familiar dynamics in energy work. So I’d work backwards:
Create safety. Get curious. Give whatever you find somewhere to go.
1. Ground: give your body signals of safety
Grounding is often treated as another word for calming down. It can do that, but its usefulness goes further.
At its simplest, grounding brings your attention back to here: your body, your senses and your actual environment. A walk outside, mindful breathing or sitting with a cat can all achieve it.
That present-moment orientation can provide cues of safety, but it also creates an opportunity to listen. Your body is constantly giving you information. What we experience as stress can be a signal that something is too much, has changed, or needs our attention. Grounding gives you a chance to notice some of those signals before asking yourself to push through them.
A practical suggestion I give clients is sensory journalling. These prompts are designed to engage your senses and reconnect you with experiences of safety:
Think of a person or character who makes you feel safe. Why? What might they say if you told them you needed comfort?
Imagine you’re inside an oceanside cave on a balmy summer night. What can you hear, smell and feel?
Imagine the cosiest blanket ever. What does it feel like to be bundled up in it?
The point isn’t to produce profound answers. It’s to reorient your attention towards something stable enough for the next step.
2. Inquire: find out what you’re actually carrying
Once you’ve created a little space, get curious.
Try the Five Whys: start with how you feel, ask why, write the next thing that feels true, then ask why again. Five times is a guide, not a magic number.
Start simply:
I’m angry. Why?
Sometimes I’m angry eventually reveals something closer to: I’m sad because my friend is invalidating me in a way that reminds me of how my mum used to, and it makes me feel unseen and powerless.
You haven’t resolved the emotion. That isn’t the point. But you’ve started separating what happened today, what it touched from before, and what you’re actually feeling underneath the charge.
And that can matter creatively, too.
“I’m angry” can feel like a wall. “I feel unseen” now has shape… and an unspoken request.
3. Process: give it somewhere to go
Once there is enough safety to feel something and clarity to recognise it, the next step is movement.
And you may already have one of the best processing tools available.
Sometimes creativity isn’t what comes after processing. Creativity is the processing.
Write it. Paint it. Sing it. Move it. Make the ugly version nobody needs to see. Sometimes the first two steps are enough to give what was stuck a pathway into expression.
But if it still feels like a hose you’ve unkinked only for another kink to appear further along, another processing tool may help.
In my energetic framework, Reiki, acupuncture, massage and yoga can all support movement in different ways. Your own toolkit might include somatic work, breathwork, exercise, dancing, journalling or time in nature. And this crowd hardly needs me to add music to the list.
The modality matters less than the principle:
Give what you’re carrying somewhere to go — and create the conditions to allow flow.
So, maybe our worlds aren’t so different
Because when I look at these three steps, I see a pattern that underpins much of how I work:
Safety gives you space to notice.
Inquiry gives what you notice shape.
Processing gives it somewhere to go.
Notice. Give form. Express.
But if you ask me... that sounds suspiciously like making art too, doesn’t it?
So if your usual creative pathway suddenly feels inaccessible, perhaps the problem isn’t your creativity.
Next time, instead of asking Why can’t I create?, maybe try:
What am I carrying right now, and where might it be telling me it wants to go?
Sarah Theoret is the Reiki Master and energy intuitive behind Vibe Alchemy, an Auckland energy-work practice. She is popping up at MoveSpace from 14-20 September, offering special 30-minute Reiki Reset sessions throughout the week.