Over ten years ago, I met a literary agent at the London Writers' Club.
She was offering mentoring sessions, so we arranged to meet and discuss my idea for a non-fiction book. A week later we nestled into a cosy seat at the iconic Julie’s Cafe in Holland Park.
The draft working title for the book concept was Gung Ho Hum, a slang term I remembered seeing in an amusing cartoon that described the oscillation between the ‘Gung Ho’ state of high energy, focus and drive, and the ‘Ho Hum’ state of low energy, inertia and a lack of focus.
In my thirties, I was becoming increasingly curious about an emerging division between people who, like myself, were bouncing from idea to idea, unable to focus on one thing or bring their ideas to life, while others powered toward their dreams with gusto, making them a reality and aligning the best of their being in their life’s work. I referred to this optimal state as a sweet spot of ‘creative alignment’.
I told the agent I was determined to research and write about why some people manage to align their life with meaning and purpose, while others struggle, even when given the same opportunities.
Although I’d spent many months keenly focused on the subject, I had no idea what the answer might be. But as a professional designer and keen writer, the question genuinely excited me.
When I'd finished my enthusiastic spiel, I was surprised to see the agent sitting squarely still. Then, she eased into a polite yet swift extermination of the concept, in a few direct blows.
I could see a whole world in my head, but had failed to ignite the agent’s imagination. As a born storyteller it was particularly humiliating to reconcile that, in this pivotal moment, I’d barely even made sense. Crestfallen, I trundled home to our tiny flat in Hesketh Place. Even the watchful Elm trees I passed in Avondale Park seemed to bow in solemn resignation.
Despite her immediate dismissal, the question endured for me. It lived on as a tiny ember, weaving its way through the ebb and flow of life stages - jobs, businesses, marriage, children.
“Keep a little fire burning.
However small, however hidden.”
C O R M A C M c C A R T H Y
Over time I took a deep dive into the language of archetypes, through the worlds of Carl Jung and contemporary, Caroline Myss.
I learned about Jung’s theories on ‘integration’ - assimilating the archetypal components of ‘self’ into a balanced ‘whole’. This aligned nicely with my ideas on creative alignment. Each new discovery validated my original concept.
Years later, I transitioned into a newly formed discipline called human-centred design (HCD), which proved to be the missing piece. When I combined HCD with the language of archetypes, a unique alchemy formed in the very first prototype for The Elements Kit.
It wasn't a book, but a powerful conversation tool to help people discover their unique creative identity and realise their life potential.
Unsurprisingly, the process of developing The Elements Kit proved to be my own quest of creative alignment. It could not be hurried. I needed to be patient with its slow unfolding before I could truly align the concept, awaken all the parts of ‘me’ that needed to bring it to life.
And soon enough, it started making sense for others, who longed to find alignment, connection and expression with their most authentic self.
Soon enough the very glee with which I presented my nascent idea to the unyielding literary agent, began to reflect in the sparkling eyes of others.
I learned that it’s well worth cherishing these embers, despite the set-backs. They are tiny sparks of intuitive knowing, floating back from our destiny as messengers that greet us here in current time.
We may not be ready for them - as our requisite archetypes lie dormant or repressed, waiting their turn to awaken and support the path - until we find that 'sweet spot' within our true self.
When an ember is truth, it’s bound to endure, and ignite when conditions are right.
Always, always keep the ember alight.