Week 1 Check-In

Are You a Shadow Artist?

I don't want to bombard you with too many emails, but I wanted to check in as we near the end of our first week. I know for some of you, getting your morning pages done hasn't happened. I'm not here to make you feel bad, but more to show you solidarity that you can get back on the horse tomorrow and share what benefits you can expect.

Even if you're already feeling overwhelmed with your to-do lists, the impact of just getting your three pages down each day will pay you back with more time and less overwhelm.

The resistance is real (and expected)

If you've been struggling to start or stick with your morning pages, you're not broken. You're not weak. You might just be what Julia Cameron calls a "shadow artist."

Shadow artists are everywhere, and you probably know several. They're the people who:

• Collect art but never make it themselves

• Date or marry creative people while suppressing their own creativity

• Work in careers adjacent to their desired art (think critics who wanted to be directors, or reps who wanted to be writers)

• Surround themselves with creativity but believe "real artist" could never apply to them

• Support everyone else's creative dreams while ignoring their own

Sound familiar?

Cameron writes: "Too intimidated to become artists themselves, very often too low in self-worth to even recognise that they have an artistic dream, these people become shadow artists instead."

The cruel conditioning

Here's what often happens: As children, we're told to "stop daydreaming" or that we'll "never amount to anything with our head in the clouds." We're pushed toward sensible careers while art becomes a hobby, "creative fluff around the edges of real life."

We learn early that "art won't pay the electric bill," so if we're encouraged to consider creativity at all, it must be practical. Baby artists are urged to think like baby doctors or lawyers instead.

The result? We grow up believing creativity is the prerogative of others, nothing we can aspire to for ourselves.

Why the morning pages feel impossible

If you've been a shadow artist for years, supporting others' creativity while denying your own, then sitting down with a blank page and claiming space for your thoughts can feel terrifying.

Your inner critic (what Cameron calls the Censor) immediately pipes up: "Who do you think you are? What makes you think your thoughts matter? This is selfish. You have more important things to do."

This resistance isn't a character weakness. It's decades of conditioning that told you to put everyone else's needs first and treat your own creative impulses as selfish indulgence.

What to expect when you push through

When you do manage those three pages (even if it's only been once or twice this week), here's what starts happening:

Mental clarity: Getting the mental clutter onto paper frees up headspace for actual thinking and problem-solving.

Reduced overwhelm: Those racing thoughts and endless worries get contained on the page instead of spinning in your head.

Better decisions: When you stop storing everyone else's emotional debris in your brain, you can actually hear your own wisdom.

Time creation: Twenty minutes of morning pages often creates hours of more focused, intentional living throughout the day.

Emotional regulation: The pages become a safe place to process frustration, disappointment, and dreams without judgment.

Your shadow artist recovery

Moving from shadow artist to reclaimed creative isn't about becoming Picasso or quitting your day job. It's about:

• Taking your own thoughts seriously enough to write them down

• Protecting time for your own interests and curiosity

• Trusting that your creative impulses matter

• Learning to nurture your artist child instead of abandoning it

Remember, Cameron says that "very often audacity, not talent, makes one person an artist and another a shadow artist." The difference isn't skill, it's the willingness to step out of the shadows and claim your creative birthright.

Tomorrow is a new day

If you haven't managed your morning pages yet this week, tomorrow is a fresh start. Set your alarm twenty minutes early. Put your notebook by your bed. Write three pages of whatever comes up: complaints about the weather, your to-do list, how weird this feels, how you don't know what to write.

There's no wrong way to do morning pages. There's only doing them or not doing them.

Your shadow artist days are numbered. Your authentic, creative self is waiting.

How has your first week been? Hit reply and let me know, are you recognising the shadow artist in yourself? What resistance is coming up? I read every response and often share insights (anonymously) that help the whole group.

We're in this together.

Robyn

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Next week: We explore "Recovering a Sense of Identity" and dive into who you were before you became who you thought you should be.

Thanks for reading! If this resonated, please consider sharing it. These conversations matter, and the more we talk openly about navigating health during midlife, the better equipped we all become.