Everybody’s So Creative! Flow State and Doom Scrolling
By Liza Nash Taylor | March 7, 2025 |
Photo courtesy of @sookieandivy from Instagram, used with permission.
“Everybody’s so creative!” is the catchphrase of social media personality @imtanaramallory. Tanara does interpretive dramatic voiceovers for other people’s disgusting-looking recipe videos and clickbait posts that tell you to put aluminum foil on your bathroom faucet before guests come over. I find Tanara hysterical. She’s one of my favorite creative voices on Instagram and one of my go-tos for middle-of-the-night anti-angst scrolling.
Speaking of being creative, have some of us lost our mojo lately? I know my own has taken a dive. It seems like scrolling Facebook and Instagram turns to doom in about twenty seconds. I got off Twitter in 2018 and recently left TikTok and LinkedIn and my new Bluesky feed seems to be all politics. I’m participating in fewer platforms and being more selective about who I follow. I’m also blocking more content. While I want to stay abreast of news, scrolling can feed feelings of existential doom and burnout. And it’s not just political news. On some days, seeing fellow writers post their multi-book deals and new cover art can unleash my personal demon, (whom I call Icky), who likes to poke me and say, Super impressive. Hey, look what they have that you don’t, you loser. Huh. Think you’ll ever have that? I think not.
Despite the gloom and doom, I still find Tanara and other content creators to be sources of enlightenment and joy. On Instagram, @shifferdiane delivers good sense and “Nana loves you” comfort, while rescue dogs @sookieandivy “sit, stay, and cro-slay” with their hand-crocheted hats. I follow hundreds of knitters, needleworkers, and miniature makers and draw inspiration from the work of my fellow crafters. Of course, I also follow thousands of authors, writers, and bookstores, too, and yes; I spend a ridiculous amount of time on funny dog videos and on forwarding the very best ones on to my daughter, whether she wants to see them or not.
There seems to be a surge—maybe instigated by Covid lockdown, maybe perpetuated by recent political events—of folks taking up crafts and needlework. Are we all in search of new sources of inspiration, or looking for comfort?
At twenty-eight, my daughter began to knit recently, in spite of my cajoling and offering to teach her since she was four. She’s taught herself by watching YouTube videos. I introduced her to a site called Ravelry, which is a mecca for knitting and crochet. She quickly caught the bug and joined some forums there. (I now confess that I spend other middle-of-the-night hours scrolling my happy-place Facebook group called Stranded Knits, where the chatter is all yarn and knitting color work, all the time.) Things can get snarky and heated, such as in a recent query from a member asking for help to find a pattern for a sweater she saw on the TV show Shetland. One member said (I paraphrase), “You could do a reverse Google search from the photograph. So easy and yet it’s amazing how few bother.” Well. As you can imagine, this began something of a kerfuffle over at Stranded Knits. So even our happy-escape places can be fraught these days.
Recently, I saw a post on Instagram from @thethoughtfulartisan. It said, “Did you know? Having multiple craft projects in progress is better for your well-being. Dr. Anne Kirketerp claims that having a range of projects to choose from gives you freedom to select one that matches your energy level, and that promotes a better flow state.”
So, being not exactly sure that I could explain to anyone what “flow state” is, I did a little looking. An article in Psychology Today offers this enlightenment:
“When you’re deeply focused on a challenging task that you have enough skill to complete and the activity is rewarding for its own sake, you can enter a state that psychologists call the ‘flow state’. This isn’t just a rare moment of inspiration; getting into the flow state is a skill you can train, and its benefits may be substantial.”
Well, thought I, sign me up for that, pronto. Intrigued, I looked into Dr. Kirketerp. She’s a Danish occupational therapist and psychologist and author of a book she researched for seven years, called Craft Psychology: How Crafting Promotes Health. The recently published English edition ships from the UK, so I couldn’t buy and read it in time for this essay, but I have to say I agree with Dr. Kirketerp as regards creative endeavors, be they handwork or writing.
In any given month, I might have several craft projects going. My dollhouse seems never-ending, and I’m not sure I want to finish it and give it to my granddaughter. I’m knitting a sweater using twenty colors in a body design I’m adapting from a favorite sweater I own, so there’s no pattern to follow. When I work on it, there is no way to do anything else simultaneously and I am definitely in flow state. My knitting basket might also contain a simple baby sweater that’s an easy project to travel with, or to work on while I watch TV. Yet there are also months when I don’t pick up my needles and things sit unfinished. Such is life. We’re talking hobbies here, so deadlines do not factor in unless you simply HAVE to finish crocheting that pair of broccoli-shaped dog helmets in time for Christmas.
Think, for a moment, about the good things creating does for our wellbeing. Gardening, crafting, knitting, whittling, cooking, writing, whatever; can produce a creative frenzy where good stuff spews forth, almost unbidden, and we have produced through our own exertions a juicy tomato or a warm little pair of mittens or a bestselling novel-adapted-into-a-blockbuster Netflix series.
This philosophy of multiple simultaneous projects might apply to our writing as well. In writing, months can pass while we await feedback or hope for approval or acceptance on a piece, and so we leave a project lying fallow. Sometimes, I’m working on a novel revision while outlining a new novel and there’s an article I’ve agreed to write and turn in by an agreed-upon date and…You get the picture. Sometimes we hit a wall, or life intrudes, or our personal Icky has taken up residence in our heads like the green phlegm character in a decongestant commercial. Sometimes, the sh*t happening in the world just sucks our souls dry.
And yet, sometimes we do enter flow state.
If creativity feeds on itself, then maybe those snarky fellow creatives and Ickys are spurring us on to prove them wrong. No! I will not frog this cardigan and my yarn floats are not too tight! I can and will revise this novel and sell it.
In an article on Medium, Bethany Ranes, Ph.D. writes about the neuroscience of Flow State, and how it can be harnessed. She suggests that optimized flow can be achieved by blocking off time for a task, minimizing distractions, creating a measurable goal, and “find[ing] the sweet spot between challenge and skill”. Dr. Ranes suggests we “Identify tasks that slightly stretch your abilities. If something feels too hard, break it into smaller steps. If it feels too easy, add a layer of complexity (e.g., a tighter deadline or a creative twist).”
This can be applied to learning to knit, making a dollhouse, and to writing. I didn’t know before to call it “flow state”, but I do know that during the last couple of years I’ve lost myself for whole days, in my garage doing tiny dollhouse carpentry with tiny tools while listening to arias on my AirPods. There’s that semi-euphoric, back-to-earth feeling when I look up and hours have passed and I feel tremendous satisfaction over the tiny ladder I’ve made and stained just the right shade of weathered gray. In writing, it might be the completion of one well-researched, finely edited paragraph that moves the story forward while setting a plausible scene in 1953.
In flow state, there is no room in my brain for Icky.
Maybe, in these turbulent times, we need to find new strategies to nurture our creative selves. We might try out some of Dr. Ranes’ ideas for training our minds to achieve flow. We might learn a new craft and allow ourselves time to pursue it. We might tailor our social media feeds more judiciously, and weed out the naysayers and liars and critics that seem to rule the airwaves—which is not to say that we shouldn’t stay involved in what matters to us. Maybe we need to welcome in the creatives who make us laugh or bring us joy—to follow the Tanaras, and those who crochet silly hats for adorable rescue dogs.
Creativity and art won’t save us, but they can definitely improve our flow state. If we’re lucky, that will keep us all writing and making art for each other, maybe until Icky goes away for good.
What are your go-to anti-angst social media pages? Can you identify a time you were in flow state? Do you have a practice to achieve it?
Liza Nash Taylor (she/her) is a late-blooming historical novelist and self-proclaimed empty nester with attitude. She was a 2018 Hawthornden International Fellow and received an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts the same year. Her work has appeared in Gargoyle Magazine; Deep South, and others. Her debut novel, ETIQUETTE FOR RUNAWAYS (Blackstone Publishing, 2020) was listed in Parade Magazine’s 30 Best Beach Reads of 2020 and Frolic’s 20 Best Books of Summer 2020. Her second novel, IN ALL GOOD FAITH, came out in August 2021, also from Blackstone.
A native Virginian, Liza lives in Keswick with her husband and dogs, in an old farmhouse which serves as a setting for her historical fiction.
Find out more at lizanashtaylor.com.
Even in this horror descended on the country, I had a serious study of the piano. I still do. As a writer, I found it so essential to have another occupation that wasn’t based on words—for which my word-generating brain was no help, and in fact had to go quiet. Listening, sensing the fingers, and attending moment-by-moment to each note or chord leave no room for angsting about past or future. I imagine that crafts are like that too. The “secret,” I think, is to spend time in a different part of one’s brain. The loving study of an art form—especially if there’s no agenda attached to it, other than the learning and joy itself—can really help to do that.
Barbara, I love your comments, especially “the loving study of an art form”. Thanks for reading.
Liza–I definitely like the cut of your jib or the knit-one-pearl-one of your needlework–whatever. You’re witty, and for that I thank you.
“Dr. Anne Kirketerp claims that having a range of projects to choose from gives you freedom to select one that matches your energy level, and that promotes a better flow state.” Okay, Dr. Anne. My energy level maxes out at one watt, so my flow state isn’t robust. If some mix-up in your hectic project schedule leads you to visit me, I’m keeping the powder room stocked with tinfoil.
Thanks again, Liza. I really enjoyed this.
Aw, thanks, Barry. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Perfect timing on this article!
Well, let’s hope things improve and we’re distracted by Joy scrolling sometime soon.
Wonderful post! My go-to escape pages are cat rescue people on TikTok, mainly a guy somewhere in the Middle East who loves cats with such fervor it gives me hope for humanity. I also love a young guy in a Uber, trying to pay off his debts. I do get a fair amount of political commentary, but I’m there for cats. My hobbies are gardening and art, with a range of projects, which I’ve never considered. Collage is less pressure, easy when I’m tired. I can do sketchbook watercolors for stress relief, and bigger paintings for a long term sense of accomplishment.
Hi Barbara,
I’m a gardener, too. Something about digging in the dirt is so satisfying. I don’t ooh and ah over cats so much, but I do understand. Thanks for your comments.
Liza, I can just picture your dollhouse and all the miniature things you’ve made for it. How fun! My daughter I and used to make little fairy houses in the woods. And yes, having other creative outlets has always been part of my life. Music–both singing and playing piano, and more recently the recorder in a group. There’s the garden and cooking. I’ve not knitted or crocheted anything for a long time–must check out Ravelry. Most of my sewing is mending or adding bits of lace… It’s interesting that working with my hands allows me to enter a flow state easily, as does writing by hand, whereas it takes a lot more time and discipline to get into the zone typing away on the computer. It’s a more conscious thing. Thanks for your entertaining essay–will you post a picture of your dollhouse?
Adorable, Liza! I’m new to social media–just made an insta acct last week and figuring things out. I know, I know, completely behind the curve, lol.
Thanks, Vijaya! It sounds like you’re a really creative soul. The best way to see my dollhouse projects is @tinyfoxstory on Instagram.
Bless you and thank you, Liza! You have validated my bags of half-knit sweaters (I name all of my eventually complete projects things like, “Three Year Blanket” and “Five Year Sweater”) and you have made me laugh. This morning, I enjoyed this: https://www.borowitzreport.com/p/kennedy-center-to-replace-hamilton
But canine broccoli-helmets are even better therapy. Thanks for your informative funniness. It has been WAY too long since I have found any flow.
This weekend, my daughter is coming home for her college spring break, but when she’s out with her high school friends, I’m going to look for some flow in the seat cushions of my sofa. And under my bed. Or maybe it ended up in the kitchen junk drawer. I am SURE it will turn up.
xo!
Sarah, that Borowitz piece made me snort a little. Thanks for your comments. I love calling a project a “Five Year Sweater”.
I believe I am following some of Bethany’s ideas. I’ve never been able to truly dive into my work until a few chores are done. That allows me to think about where I am in the text and to prepare for my writing time. Great post!!
Thanks, Beth.
I’m starting to view novel-writing as more and more like carpentry. We have all these spaces, rooms, objects, characters, and details—A lot like your dollhouse!—and there isn’t an arbitrary limit on how finely detailed you can go. You can always either do more right now or increase your skills somewhere else, then return to that spot. I used to feel mystified by stories about how Terry Pratchett or Hemingway would spend half a day or all day just revising, for weeks or months on end, but I think I might be slowly starting to understand. At least a little bit.
The first thing that got really like this for me was Legos as a child, but I never had enough blocks of the colors or, often, the shapes I wanted. Then I got into Minecraft in high school, a video game about crafting and creating in a highly pattern-based, cubic sandbox world that almost destroyed my real life. I could have almost any blocks I might want. I used to spend weeks or months revising one castle, adding on rooms and swapping one block for another, or building larger, sometimes automatic storage systems for copious amounts of stone, lumber, and ore. Thankfully I stopped playing the game in time for college, but for a while that was my pocket galaxy.
In the last year, I started finding out how to take my writing with that same…maybe the term would be magical seriousness. Henry James suggested that maybe the only rule about what you can put in a novel is that it might be interesting—With an idea like that, it truly feels like I have free access to any parts I might want. Writing and revising have been much easier and felt way more rewarding since then.
Thanks, Beth.
Ugh, Bryan. Please forgive me for posting comments while (riding, not driving) in a car through an area of spotty reception, which is to say, that first comment on your comment was, obviously, for the person who commented before you. Anyway, I love YOUR comments.
Yes, hobbies can become SO engrossing. Like your virtual warehouses, I have actual shoeboxes of tiny hardware and crown molding for my dollhouse and I don’t want to use it because then I won’t have it in waiting. I love your concept of “magical seriousness “, and that you seem to have manifested your other world organization into your writing life. Sounds like you have a font of creativity spouting.
“Can you identify a time you were in flow state? Do you have a practice to achieve it?”
Thanks for the reminder!
When I’m tired, I fear getting into the flow state because it is so all-involving once I do, and I instinctively know I won’t be able to write anything – just ask myself questions about why I can’t.
Exhaustion is my daily state (I have ME/CFS). Getting a ‘good night’s sleep’ is a joke; I’ve learned to keep putting myself back to bed all night long, over and over and over until I am exhausted with trying OR I have accumulated at least 6 hours 30 min in segments that go from a few minutes to close to two hours. 7.5 hours is great – it could take me 10 hours to get them, but those days are somewhat better for writing IF Life hasn’t handed me tasks which MUST BE DONE, BY ME.
It starts with BLOCKING THE INTERNET – preferably for a good chunk of time, 4-5 hours.
The next step is to document where I am with an entry in the Production file of the current scene – date, time, a quick note about sleeping and eating and the day ahead. Scrivener makes it easy.
After that, there are two files that I go through, a line at a time:
SETTLE SHEET
and
LEFT BRAIN RIGHT method SCENE,
which start me thinking down the paths that lead to flow, such as
“If the BEATS file isn’t loaded with everything that might go into this scene, I have to stop trying to write, and finish the loading process.
I’ve tried writing without the loading finished – not pretty, and too much needs to be amended and rewritten. Not worth it – for me, with this body, right now,” from the Settle Sheet,
or the next step from LBR:
“GATHER EMOTIONS, EMOTIONAL TRUTHS, READER EMOTIONS!
FIF-A: TYPE. Hardest part. Goal, conflict, shape, pivotal: Brainstorm. LIVE through as character.” (Here FIF is Donald Maass’ The Fire in Fiction, which I’ve turned into prompts for each of his chapters.)
SOMEPLACE along this path, which I’ve been using in this format since 2013, and IF I am physically capable of it today, FLOW kicks in, I find myself doing the next step, and if that step is a writing step, writing the next words in the scene.
For someone like me, with a damaged brain, writing mainstream fiction, the steps in the process have been tweaked to get me back where I was last time I was able to write, and back to the next step in that process for the current scene. I work from an extremely plotted list of scenes, in a linear fashion until each scene is ready for the published book – no drafts, no going back.
Some days are so bad I can’t even start the sequence, especially if the scene itself is tough.
On those days, if I’m lucky, I’ll fill in some of the background, write in my FEAR JOURNAL, poke around in a book on craft.
If the day is really bad (or I have something I HAVE to do), I stare at the screen, re-read the first two books in my mainstream trilogy, or give up for the day.
It still amazes me how I can actually write books this way, but the STORY is clear in my head, and has been since 2000 – I just have to get it out.
Hi Alicia. I had to look it up. You have
Myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS) . Thanks so much for reading and commenting. I admire your ability to lead your mind into flow state from a set of proscribed steps that you’ve figured out, and that work for you. Thanks for sharing that with us. Super impressive, as my Icky would say. I need to consider what my sequence might entail.
Start by keeping track of what you already do – see if there’s a pattern to the steps.
Then create a temporary list.
Keep paying attention, and edit the list until it accurately reflects what leads you to the flow state. If there is a set of steps, you’ve found yours. If not, keep checking for what you do – before you get to the flow state. A lot of the data won’t help, but you keep refining.
My lists wouldn’t help you, necessarily, because they’re full of abbreviations as shortcuts, but you’re welcome to see what one of mine started out looking like (it’s been tweaked many times, but this post explains what I had back in 2013; the current version isn’t that different):
https://liebjabberings.wordpress.com/2013/08/15/left-brain-right-brain-hemisphere-wars-and-writers-block/
Thanks, Alicia!
Another colorwork knitter! Yay!! The Stranded Knitting group is one of the few reasons I don’t nuke my FB account.
I move between knitting (or crochet) and pottery. Doing that kind of repetitive hand work is meditative and helps my brain stop chasing its own tail.
I can’t wait to see your 20 color sweater!!!
I agree about the repetition being meditative. The color work is that tweak that makes it engaging enough to create flow. I’m glad to meet a fellow devotee of the Stranded Knits group ! Did you see the post where the knitter recreated a Toulouse-Lautrec painting with 50 colors of wool?