Ojas: how to build resilience as an artist

One of the most beautiful concepts in Ayurveda is the concept of ojas. Sometimes called the body’s natural nectar or honey, ojas is the most refined essence of everything we take in to our bodies. After nutrients from our food are used to nourish all layers of our tissues, what’s left is ojas. Ojas is related to immunity and resilience. When our ojas is high, we are not so easily swayed by outer circumstances. We are strong mentally and physically, and don’t often get sick. If we do, our ojas will help us to bounce back fairly quickly. 

As an artist, building and conserving ojas is absolutely crucial to the creative process. I’m not talking about physical immunity here (although being in good health is certainly beneficial to realize our creative visions). As with all things in Ayurveda, ojas doesn’t just apply to the physical realm, but to the subtle realm as well. So what does it look like to have “creative immunity”? To be resilient as an artist?

Artists perhaps get a bad rap for being overly sensitive and temperamental when it comes to our work. Whether or not there is truth in that cliche, I have seen many of my friends give up projects or even whole career paths after receiving criticism or rejection. From an Ayurvedic perspective, this would be a case of low ojas. 

What is ojas to an artist? It is the stamina to keep going, year after year, project after project. It is the resilience to keep writing after getting ten rejection letters. It is the excitement to start a new project after your last project didn’t go as hoped. It is getting back in the studio day after day, even if you can’t always see the reward. 

Just as there are things we can do to strengthen our immune systems, I think it’s helpful to consider how to build a strong “creative immunity.” With good ojas, the negative reviews don’t get us down, criticism doesn’t make us give up, and we don’t fall sick with self doubt. We need to build resilience. Here are some ideas to build and conserve ojas as an artist. 

Start fresh 

From an Ayurvedic perspective, before we can build ojas we need to address agni and ama. Agni refers to our digestion, and ama refers to the buildup of toxins in our bodies. Before we can build healthy ojas, we need to have a strong digestive fire, and to clear our system of toxins. (If you haven’t read my previous two posts in this series, you can go back and read about how agni and ama apply to you as an artist.) I know, it’s a lot of weird sanskrit words, so let’s look at how this specifically applies to creativity. 

Having a healthy creative agni or “digestion” means that you have a hunger for new experiences and a strong desire to create. You are able to digest your emotions and experiences and turn them into creative expression. Basically, it could be seen as your level of inspiration!

Ama, on the other hand, is all the toxic stuff that keeps you from being creative. This could be past experiences, negative thought patterns, etc. It makes sense that to build creative ojas, we want to have a strong capacity for inspiration, and have done work to clear blocks that hinder our creative flow. From this place, we have a fresh start. From here, we can build our ojas. 

Build a protective shield

Crucial to building ojas is knowing who or what to let into your space — and who not to. A tip from my Ayurvedic teacher Katie Silcox: “Say no to vampires.” This means staying away from the people and situations that suck your energy, or suck your creative soul! When it comes to being creative, who we surround ourselves with is so important. You want to have friends, supporters or collaborators who believe in you and your vision. 

Have you ever had the experience of sharing a new piece of work with someone, and not getting the feedback you were hoping for? This happens all the time, and at the wrong moment can be deadly to a piece of art or an idea. I’ve found that the more I love something I’ve made, the more careful I actually have to be about who I share it with. If I’ve just written a song that I am totally in love with, I rush to play it for someone, and then all I get is a shrug, it can feel really devastating. With a song I feel less attached to, I’m usually more open to criticism or feedback. 

There’s no easy answer when it comes to sharing your work; it’s all about what stage the piece is in, what the situation is, and who you are sharing it with. You have to learn what works for you, in finding the balance between sharing too early and never sharing your work at all. My process usually goes something like this: I have a few people I trust that I’ll share work with very early on. These are people who I know love me and support my work, but will also tell me the truth and give me honest feedback if I ask for it. After I’ve received some positive feedback from my core group, that will encourage me to share with a wider audience. 

But ultimately it’s how I feel about what I’ve made that gives me that creative immunity. If I really know deep down that I love a recording I’ve made, and I’ve taken the time to listen over and over and to fix what needs fixing, then I know I’ll be okay releasing it into the world. Even if it doesn’t get on the Spotify playlists, the blogs don’t write about it, whatever… I know that I’ll be able to live with that because I know in my core I’m happy with what I made, that it felt true to me. But this is all about timing. If I release something too soon or something that I have doubts about, and it isn’t received well, it can really hurt. That’s why an important part of building ojas is understanding how to protect yourself when putting your work into the world.

Work in cycles

The moment after you’ve finished a project or released something into the world can feel like the scariest time for creatives. Even if the work is well-received. Especially if the work is well received! I’ve heard so many interviews with musicians, photographers, writers, etc. who talk about the pressure of having to go back to the drawing board and make something new after having a big critical success. I was just listening to Billie Eilish talk about feeling this after her first record came out and was so successful. There is now this added pressure of wanting to live up to or even outdo the last thing she’s made, to satisfy her fans. 

So, you’re probably not Billie Eilish and don’t have to worry about disappointing millions of adoring teens with the next thing you create. But you can probably still relate to this feeling. Maybe after finishing a project, you just feel like you have nothing left to say. You might worry that you lost whatever it was that allowed you to be creative. Or maybe you didn’t get the outcome you were hoping for, and that makes it hard to keep going. 

I’ve often heard artists say that the only remedy for this feeling is to get busy creating the next thing. Whether or not the reception of the last thing was good or bad doesn’t matter, the only way to move forward is to get busy, and quick. I actually think that we can miss a couple crucial steps here though; those steps are, giving ourselves time to acknowledge and celebrate what we’ve accomplished, and then to rest. 

If you’re anything like me, it’s hard for you to acknowledge your successes. I was talking to a friend the other day who held up a copy of a prominent magazine that featured her work on the cover. “This is me!” she said. “And I still don’t feel like I deserve to give myself a day off.” Many of us are in the habit of pushing ourselves so hard, it honestly doesn’t matter if we achieve some level of “success” or not. We’re still not going to think we’re good enough. We’re still going to set our sights on the next big goal, bulldozing right on by our previous wins in the process. 

This is a great way to burn through your ojas. If we constantly move from one project to the next, never acknowledging our progress, never taking time to rest, we will quickly become burned out and sick – either physically or creatively. The remedy for this is to build in time to rest after completing a project. I love the author Kate Northrup’s approach of using the cycles of nature to structure our work. She uses the term “fertile void” to describe the time after completing one project, before even beginning to plant the seeds of the next. 

This is very in line with Ayurveda, taking wisdom from what we observe in nature to apply to our inner lives. In nature, the fertile void is the darkness of the new moon. It is the dead of winter, when nothing is growing. The earth doesn’t go right from the fall harvest to the blossoming of new flowers in spring. There is a time of rest and rejuvenation. As artists, it is so important that we allow ourselves this time. It’s okay to not know what the next project will be. It’s okay to put our paints and our notebook aside for a little bit. It’s not easy for me to do this; I often fear that if I don’t use it I’ll lose it, so to speak! But I have learned that periods of rest and reflection allow me to experience true inspiration. It’s nice to get to that point where I’m really longing to create the next thing, rather than constantly pushing myself. 

If we want to have healthy levels of creativity throughout our lives, we need to conserve ojas. This means we are not constantly pushing ourselves to produce, to outdo ourselves, to compete against the clock. To conserve ojas, it’s important to think about your work in cycles. There will be times of great inspiration and productivity in your life. There will also be periods of rest, darkness, uncertainty and introspection. These times are needed for the next thing to grow. Instead of seeing this time as a waste, try to see it as a time to replenish your creative well. Learn to love the fertile void. 

Keep your inner well filled

Speaking of replenishing your creative well… It’s important as an artist to have the right balance of input and output. To understand this concept a little better, let’s look at it in physical terms for a moment. Ayurveda says that two things that can deplete ojas are overeating and overexercise. This is because we want to maintain a good balance of what we are consuming and what we are expending. Eating too much will weaken our digestive fire, and we won’t be able to build ojas. However, too much exercise, travel or activity will use up our ojas too quickly. To build and conserve ojas, we want to have a balanced ratio of intake and output. 

Creatively speaking, if all we are doing is writing, for example, all day every day, we are going to become depleted. We may ride the high of a creative streak for a while, but then we’ll feel exhausted and overspent. We’ll burn through our creative flame until there’s nothing left. On the other hand, if we’re sitting around reading and watching movies all day, our creative fires will get low. Even if we’re taking in good quality material, if we are not putting something back into the world, there will eventually be a buildup that will lead to stagnation. 

There is a wonderful little book by Mason Curry called Daily Rituals: How Artists Work that outlines the daily routines of many famous writers, thinkers and artists. Although they certainly don’t all have the healthiest habits, I’ve found it interesting that most seem to reflect this balance of input and output within their daily schedule. Charles Dickens, for example, worked every morning for about four to five hours, before going on his daily afternoon walk: “Promptly at 2:00, Dickens left his desk for a vigorous three-hour walk through the countryside or the streets of London, continuing to think of his story and, as he described it, ‘Searching for some pictures I wanted to build upon.’” A walk is a wonderful way to fill your creative well — just ask Julia Cameron who prescribes daily solo walks in The Artist’s Way. 

Just as we want to allow for cycles in the broader context of our projects, it’s healthy to have cycles throughout the day. Think about having times of active creation or output, and times of reflection and good quality input. Whether it’s a walk in nature, an afternoon cup of tea and a good book, or a trip to an art museum, think about how you can fill your creative reserves every day. This will help you maintain healthy ojas. 

Have faith

My teacher Katie Silcox once shared in a class that the best way to build ojas is to have faith. “We need hope,” she said. “We have to keep making plans for the future.” I remember my reaction when she said this. I wanted to cry — but in a good way! To me it felt like this amazing permission to just be happy. To believe that life is good. To, as Wendell Berry wrote, “Be joyful / though you have considered all the facts.” In my past I’ve often felt that being “realistic” means having a grim outlook on the future, and keeping my dreams small and manageable. This perspective somehow felt more responsible. But I know that is not who I am at my core. I am hopeful, joyful, and creative. I have trust in life. To be told that this outlook is actually good for my health? That felt like a huge gift. 

Having faith, or hope, or trust, or whatever you want to call it, is essential for creativity. Why? Because it allows us to take the next step, even when we can’t see anything but air beneath our feet. It allows us to believe in an idea that everyone else says is crazy. It gives us the courage to actually take that time of rest after finishing a big project, because we trust that we will find inspiration once again. In those times when you doubt the point of everything, when you lose sight of the reason why you chose this crazy path that all creative beings must walk down, faith is what will keep you going. 

Here are my key takeaways for building your creative ojas:

1. Take care of your creative fire or agni, by feeding your soul with inspiring input every day!
2. Address creative blocks, or ama, that may be keeping you from your easy creative flow state.
3. Be careful who you let into your creative circle and who you share your work with, especially in early phases.
4. Give yourself permission to rest after completing a big project.
5. Understand that building faith is food for the creative soul. Trust the journey, even when you can’t see the destination.

We’re artists, after all. We have to believe in things we can’t see from time to time.