I lost my connection to my creative energy in the middle of the tangled scruff of life: a pandemic, a failing marriage careening toward divorce, a descent into a colorful array of addictions, and the sluggishness of burnout.

My insides felt like an ashtray. I was so overstimulated that at one point during lockdown, birdsong made me want to rip off my skin.

Numbed, I discarded my true self: a curious, ambitious, creative person. We are all creative, no matter how much you think you suck at drawing. The act of existing, figuring out how to solve problems, communicating—it’s all creative. Without creativity, you lose your true self.

Through some miracle, I was able to reconnect with my true creative self when I found a habit-building app called Fabulous. The app provided structure to regain energy through a series of challenges and tasks that kicked off an almost obsessive excursion into an experiment that started with the question: How can I maintain consistent creative energy without burning out so I can be connected to my true self at all times?

That’s how I developed the Four Codes of Creative Energy.

Condition

I absolutely hated working out, especially growing up in small town Mississippi where the only “healthy” form of exercise was to be on a football team. I had too much trauma from being the target in “Smear the Queer” to participate.

Then, I discovered daily walks in nature. I hated the rote monotony of walking on a treadmill in the gym. I needed to see trees swaying. I needed to hear the birds (yes, I forgave them). I had to get the pent-up self-pity out of my system.

The great thing about the Condition code is you don’t need a complicated workout system. It’s not about losing weight. It’s about reconnecting with your body in gentle ways. A walk in Overton Park will do you wonders. So will vigorously dancing. Thrash around a little bit.

Clarity

Once I got the hang of consistent walking, I discovered meditation and journaling. Meditation changed everything for me as someone who has been digitally-vomited upon since I connected to the Internet at the age of 9. I got to hear my breath. I got to retrain my brain to stop digging my own rabbit holes about how much I hated myself. I was able to see clearly that a thought was just a thought, not a reality.

Meditating isn’t for everybody, and that’s OK. I also love to sit in silence for 20 minutes just to give my nervous system a break.

With journaling, I externalized all my anxieties, fears, petty squabbles, and negative lines of thinking on the page. Every time I wrote, free-form and stream-of-conscious without any rules, I got closer to my true self. I began to hear what it was saying: You were meant to create.

Craft

The more you make, the more energy you get. It can be a small doodle, it can be one line of a poem, it can be the humming of melody. Committing every day to creating in a small way keeps you closer to your true self. If you don’t feel like making something, read a book or watch a video pertaining to your medium or a medium you want to try.

I thought I needed to wait around for inspiration to create. The longer I waited, the more irritable I would get. I would lash out, plant more seeds in my Resentment Garden. I was afraid of the discomfort of not having anything to say or make. The fear of not being able to tap into some genius plot twist or character development while writing my third novel generated nothing but pressure, and frankly, it’s a little delusional to always expect greatness.

Community

Community was the Code that took the longest to develop, and it’s something I still work on to this day. I grew up isolated, relegated to writing poems and making graphics alone in my room with the occasional self-produced concert in front of the mirror to Gaga songs. Nobody knew how to nurture this little gay kid bursting with creative energy.

I turned to substances and dating apps to manufacture intimacy. The only thing I was creating was a false self, a mask, a way to protect my fear of failure, of being unlovable. I became so narrowly focused on my own needs and used all of my energy to delay discomfort.

As most dances with overindulgence end, I bowed out in rock bottom and found myself in recovery group rooms. At first, I could only share my turbulent backstory without making eye contact with anyone. But the more I spoke up and received unconditional support and true listening, I was able to meet everyone’s eye. I was able to be proud of all the daggers I couldn’t dodge. A lightness returned to my spirit. I was easy to laugh. I learned how to help others so I could learn how to help myself. I actually wanted to be healthy.

I realized the common thread from all the thousands of shares I heard while in those rooms: nothing drains your creative energy more than fear.

Alignment

When I am aligned in the Four Codes, I am committing to be the healthiest version of myself—one that has no desire to self-destruct, one that can hopefully make the world a better place through creation, and one that honors just how sacred it is to be creative.