Staring at the wall. For 9 years.

I just finished reading the autobiography of film director Akira Kurosawa, modestly titled 'Something like an Autobiography’. Very Japanese.

If you haven't already, you should watch his films. He had a dynamic style, was an exceptional writer, and inspired almost every well-known director since the 60s. His book is full of little delights, and today I want to share one slice of writing advice from Kurosawa.

Back in 5th or 6th Century China, a monk named Bodhidharma is said to have travelled to a Shaolin Monastery. He was denied entry, so he went to live in a small nearby cave and do what any of us would do: "faced a wall for nine years, not speaking for the entire time."

Legend has it that during the seventh year, he fell asleep and in response he cut off his eyelids to stay awake. The lids were thrown away and tea leaves began to spring from the ground in their place. Since then, tea has been used as a way for sleepy student monks to stay awake during times of long practice.

So what does this have to do with writing a famous screenplay or learning to be less bad at drawing? Kurosawa explains:

"[A]t some point in the writing of every script I feel like giving the whole thing up. From my many experiences of writing screenplays, however, I have learned something: If I hold fast in the face of this blankness and despair, adopting the tactic of Bodhidharma, the founder of the Zen sect, who glared at the wall that stood in his way until his legs became useless, a path will open up."

A path will open up if you just wait and bear with it. We all know this, yet lost in the moment of despair, it feels like there is simply no answer to our problem. This wisdom applies to everything, but how to get there?

Waiting is the first step. Just dropping what you're doing and walking away, letting the workers in the back of your brain try and figure things out. Some healthy distractions can be the best medicine.

Last week during a drum lesson I was struggling with a certain pattern. By the end, my teacher said: "You know, it's funny to see how the student's brain works. At the start, you struggled with this, then I added a new challenge, something new you had to focus on. The previous task is suddenly easy - you're doing it without thinking."

When I was fully focused on learning something I was getting tight and frustrated that my hands weren't responding to what my brain was asking of them. But as soon as he introduced some music and a timer for me to focus on, my hands were moving with ease. Kurosawa mentioned something similar when working with actors.

"I rarely look directly at the actors, but focus my gaze somewhere else. By doing this I sense instantly when something isn’t right. Watching something does not mean fixing your gaze on it, but being aware of it in a natural way. I believe this is what the medieval Noh playwright and theorist Zeami meant by “watching with a detached gaze.”

Being aware in a natural way, I think, means listening to your intuition - something another legendary director, David Lynch, values:

"Intuition is the key to everything, in painting, filmmaking, business - everything. I think you could have an intellectual ability, but if you can sharpen your intuition, which they say is emotion and intellect joining together, then a knowingness occurs."

Give your brain time to breathe and make new connections, and the solution will most likely come. Stick at it.