23. The creativity of longing (Or, crafting hopeful stories)


I allude pretty clearly to my political leanings on the podcast, but I don’t generally structure entire episodes around specific political issues. And I do like for this to be a kind of quiet space where you can come to recollect your creative self, whatever’s going on in the world and in your life.

But I decided it wouldn’t feel genuine to not talk at all about the fallout of the US election this month. Because it’s certainly affected my creative practice, and I’d imagine that may be true for you as well.

In the episode, I briefly but explicitly name my politics, and then I talk about how the election has been impacting my creativity.

I’ve realized that the practical aims of the election, and of politics as a whole, have had the effect of substituting a desired strategic outcome for what I actually desire in my life and in this world. Basically, I’ve lost touch with my longing.

And the most immediate and vital way I can reconnect with my longing in the daily way I live is to live creatively – to let my creative sensibility feed and shape the way I interact with others, and the actions I take.

Join me to explore a model of storytelling (from the mind of Ursula Le Guin) that’s been giving me hope and nurturing my creative longing... even when the strategic outlook isn’t so inspiring.

Writing praxis tips


This month, I’m offering two simple prompts to help you gather some motivating seeds for your creative practice, in the spirit of Le Guin’s carrier bag model of storytelling.

One is more contemplative, and the other is hands-on.

  • If you’re familiar with the trope of the gratitude journal, this prompt has a similar aim but turns the formula on its head. For a week or so, try taking notes about at least one thing each day that you noticed yourself longing for.

    The things you take note of don’t have to be impressive – they just need to be true to your daily life. Your goal is to rekindle your full awareness of your own lived experience, and of the things that fill you with an active drive to engage more deeply with your experience.

    Along with each note of a thing you long for, try to write down a concrete way to satisfy at least part of that longing. Not a big, long-term, strategic solution (those are great, but not the point of this particular practice). Something straightforward you can do for yourself or others within the next couple weeks.

    If you discover that it’s hard to identify your own longing, start with Le Guin’s description of things to put in a carrier bag: things that are useful, edible, or beautiful. Maybe one day you notice yourself longing for a particular food someone you love used to make. Can you track down a recipe, or eat something with a similar aroma and texture? Can you share this longed-for food with anyone?

    As you implement some of your planned actions, add descriptions of your sensory experiences to the journal as well, and see if you start longing to weave them into a story.

  • This second prompt can be a follow-up to your week of journaling your longing, or it can be done on its own.

    Make yourself a literal-but-symbolic carrier bag bundle, filled with a curated handful of things that represent what’s useful, nurturing, and beautiful in your particular human world. This might be a larger bundle you tie up in a nice aesthetic scarf and put out on your bookshelf for a while. Or maybe it’s a tiny bundle small enough to carry in a pocket.

    If possible, once you’ve gathered your carrier bag bundle, keep it through the solstice and into the first turning of the season in late January or February, depending on where you live. This is a collection of seeds – interact with it as you might with anything you’re hoping will germinate and grow.

    What’s the relationship between the seeds in your carrier bag? And what do they reveal about what you long for in your creative life?


Episode references

Ursula K. Le Guin, “The Carrier Bag Theory of Fiction”