Mikhal Weiner: Creating with Nuance and Compassion

What did you use to do during recess?

So many different things. In grade school, I played a lot of running-around-type games, like tag and its various iterations. I remember loving jumping rope and hopscotch. But I also had a rich imaginary world I’d engage in. I had one friend (we’re actually still close!) who would run away from class with me to a nearby stand of flowering trees where we’d climb to the tops and make up elaborate stories about being fairies or princesses. We’d pick the flowers and “cook” meals, plated on leaves, for imaginary woodland creatures. A couple of times we spent so long in the trees that we forgot to walk home together after school and really freaked our parents out. But mostly no-one noticed when we disappeared for hours at a time to come up with stories and play them out. 

Did you think of yourself as a creative kid? What does creativity look like for you these days?

I think I knew I was a creative kid, but I’m not sure it was a core part of my identity. I wasn’t an Art Kid or a Music Kid — I dabbled in various creative endeavors. Which, honestly, is kind of similar to what I do now. I always sang and loved being in school plays. In fifth or sixth grade I wrote my first “work of fiction” (a term I’m using pretty loosely here), which was essentially modeled after my favorite book at the time, The Phantom Tollbooth. And I was always, always reading. Of all the things, though, it was music that ended up defining my young creative self. I went to a high school for young artists, where I trained as a classical vocalist and performed with the best youth choir in the country. That experience still informs how I sing today, when I lead services for my synagogue, and it defined my choice to study music in college. It was there that I met my wife, who works as a professional musician. 

These days, creativity is in basically everything I do. That sounds cliche, but it’s very true. I think a few years ago I stopped trying to figure out what kind of creative person I am and just be creative. I’m naturally curious and having ADHD means I get drawn to a zillion different projects. That can mean collaborating on music with my wife (we write songs together sometimes), or singing at synagogue, or making a car costume out of a cardboard box for my toddler, or writing a personal essay, or writing my newsletter, or making a mess in the kitchen with my kids. I think leaning into curiosity can bring creativity to almost everything, except maybe household chores. 

How does art enrich your life? How does being a mother enrich your art?

When I first met my wife, I told her I wanted an extraordinary life. She promised we could make that happen together. I think, among other things, what has made that happen is the way in which we bring art and creativity into our lives and our motherhood. I feel like art feeds me; when I don’t get a chance to read or listen to music or engage with artistry in some way, I feel depleted. I’m really grateful that we’re both creative folks — we bring more art into one another’s lives, sending each other songs and books and such. Introducing one another to other creative people. All that good stuff. 

As for motherhood, I think living with two rapidly evolving tiny people is a continual opportunity for being creative. Even just in the way you think about them and their needs. We have to be constantly creative in figuring out how best to help them navigate the world. And they are both little balls of whirring creative energy; sometimes the best thing to do is just turn off your inhibitions and go with whatever is happening. I’ve found that my experience in improvisational artistic settings has been helpful in playing with our kids. And the opposite is also true — playing make-believe and making up songs for my kids makes me a more intuitive writer and musician.

What helps you make time and space for being creative? How do you avoid burn out?

This is the million dollar question, isn’t it? I think it would be easier if I was a morning person. Unfortunately, my best ideas occur to me at night. In a way, I always have time for creative work because my job is writing. But I have a lot of personal projects (like a novel, a kid’s book, and a kid’s album) that get shoved to the wayside because there’s never enough time. I used to have 20 minutes a week dedicated to working on my novel, but life shifted and that window disappeared. I’m now trying to figure out where to fit that time back in. 

I avoid burnout by being religious about caring for my mental health. Having an ADHD brain is like having a vintage car — it’ll run alright, but it takes a lot of careful maintenance to make sure it’s purring, not clunking. I find that some kind of cardio a couple times a week and getting eight or so hours of sleep are critical to having any focus at all. I also try to speak to my friends and siblings — even for five minutes — a couple times a week. Anything to release the valve on the pressure cooker of my brain. 

How would you like the world to see artists and mothers?

As complex, multifaceted people! We are all different, making different choices for our families and selves. No one has the same needs and experiences. Raising a child is an inherently creative act, which can be confusing as it gets mixed up in our other creative practices. Untangling that is a shifting, lifelong project. I wish the world would view us with nuance and compassion. 

How did motherhood change your creative practice? 

Forever. Becoming a mom made me more focused — less time meant I had to make some choices and plenty of projects did not make the cut. It also made me more intentional about the integrity of the work. I don’t write or sing anything I don’t believe in anymore. Even when I’m writing web copy or blogs, I stand behind every word I write and understand why I’m doing the work. I’ve written a few articles that people have not liked since becoming a mom, and have gotten plenty of blowback for doing so. At the end of the day, though, I want to be clear on the values and beliefs behind the work. If I stand by what I’m singing or writing and I feel the work is important, I don’t regret it. I used to spend a lot more time agonizing about decisions; now, I know how I show up in the world is about how I show up for my kids. That has clarified a lot of ideas and choices for me. 

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Mikhal Weiner is an Israeli-born writer, journalist, and part-time Cantor living on the East Coast with her wife and two kids. She graduated Summa cum Laude from Berklee College of Music in 2014. She has written music and book reviews, profiles of artists, reported work, and personal essays. Her work has appeared in Parents Magazine, NY Jewish Week, Real Simple, Pride Source, and many more publications. Her Substack, Welcome to the Chaos Palace, is about exploring the idea that chaos can be a driver of new realms of creativity and innovation and can help relinquish the ego-driven violence that plagues humanity. It's also about being a mom with ADHD.

Mikhal has worked extensively as a translator, an editor, and a transcriptionist for various academic institutions and individuals. Her work, whether text or music, is deeply influenced by her experiences as an Israeli gay woman and her love of poetry and all genres of music. She loves writing about people, places and the ways their stories intersect. 

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Hi! I’m Heidi. Writer. Editor. Mother. I’m interviewing 100 creative mothers, because I believe the more we see other mothers making beauty and meaning in small moments, the more we will be inspired to make our own kind of art, whatever that may look like during this intense season of life. Support the project by sharing with a friend.