I used to be so creative. Even told so on occasion by random people who have paraded through my life. But, you know what? That seems like so very long ago. In my adult life, I have found that I have chosen responsibility over creativity, time and time again. This is what we do. We prioritize. We compartmentalize. We fail to recognize that by doing only those things we must do, we are distancing ourselves from who we really are inside. . . that identity we worked so diligently to develop as adolescents. (I'm using "we" because I'm sure there is someone else out there in the ethers that can relate in some way.) I am utterly and disgustingly guilty of denying the creative part of myself. I have recently started to wonder when exactly this happened...
Was it when I was college? No, I believe I was a creator of sorts even then. I was a communicator. I was a writer.
Was it when I was in search of a place to make my mark as a teacher? No, I still made plans for classes I didn't yet have.
Was it in the shower a few mornings ago?
Was it driving home from work Thursday evening?
It happens little by little obviously, like most changes in one's life. I think this realization is the blessing that I've waited for all along (though not consciously). So, now that I've realized that something is lacking from my life, I have to give myself permission to seek fulfillment in the realm of frivolous creative undertakings. I have so much work to do, so many obligations to fill, too many "I need to dos." For a while now, it has been my first instinct to push away the urges I've had to create simply because it serves no practical purpose and, after all, there are tests to be graded, essays to read, grades to enter, lessons to plan, students to monitor, floors to mop, animals to feed, meals to cook, young people to listen to and so on to infinity.
So, I've now granted myself permission to create. I recognize that it's more than just frivolity. It's a need. Maslow didn't know me (or us), or he would have included creating in the base level of his hierarchy of needs. The only question that remains is the "what?" and the "how?" of the plan. What shall I create and how will I learn how to achieve it. I have to determine the best medium to fill that creative void.
Here are my new medium interests: (These are new only in pursuit, not in my desire to learn.)
Here are loves of my life that have slowly and sadly fallen to the wayside:
I hope that I get some direction, from within, without, or from beyond, as to what to pursue and what to revive. I feel like I will. I've opened the door and I await my muse's entrance. I invite you inside, too. We can perhaps find that candle that has been outed and rekindle it together. It just might be what was missing.
My [Our] here and now is all that I [we] have and all that is promised to me [us].
Be who you are inside. Be happy!