Ive been feeling stuck for a bit. And by a bit I mean the better part of last year. A lot of BIG changes, some good, some absolutely horrific. I lost family members and I felt like I lost a little part of myself. We moved to a different part of our city, a much slower, greener part. We put our oldest two in public school after homeschooling for years. After all the dust is settling from these changes, I found myself at a loss for words (or maybe the better way to say it is: at a loss of words that I was willing to share in a public space).
There have been other times where I have been cut off from creating in the way I wanted to. Whether its because I deemed it too unimportant or was just physically unable. One such time was after recovering from a long hospitalization and my fingers on my left hand were basically immobilized (read the long explanation here and short version here if you want back story). I thought I would not be able to type or paint or draw. Most of the surgeons I saw recommended amputation and the physical therapists wanted to do excruciating stretching and splinting. I went to sleep every night dreading the eventual outcome. A still small whisper insisted that it was ok to just wait and do nothing too. Now 4 years later, I have still have the contractured fingers but the pain has decreased to a manageable amount and I'm able to draw, type/write, paint, and craft or at least figure out a modified way to do these things.
I'm so incredibly grateful for these outlets and that somehow I have stumbled into learning how to utilize them as self care tools. So during this season of grief where my own words were failing me, I knew I'd have to rely on other creative outlets. In a way drawing and painting is a bit like writing. There is blankness and void, intimidating at times, yes, but in the right ebb and flow of inspiration therenis pure excitement because it means there is potential; space to convey an idea, lines and shapes and colors put together in a way that stirs something inside. Like music flowing over us we can't explain the emotions it brings rise to in the moment. I'm sure there is a scientific explanation to it but whatever it is, its good for our soul, for the unseen parts of us that need tended to.
So while I was (am) grieving and transitioning, I use these things to ever so slowly heal. I sit back and listen to words and consume art among other things that fuel creativity. Then eventually I start copying what I see and as the pain eases I can put my own spin on things and one day I wake up with original ideas. What I discover over and over again is that by incorporating art into my everyday, I can express things that our limited language struggles to convey.
I encounter some people who say, "I'm just not the creative type." I suppose if we view art simply in terms of Shakespeare and the Louvre, then yeah, we're all going to fall short. What if we can expand our definition of art and creativity to include things like discovering new music that we love so much we play over and over, putting together slideshows of family photos, rearranging furniture, trying a new meatloaf recipe while dancing around the kitchen for fun? The point is creating for me is less about the outcome and more about the process. Just going through the motions of doing something new, bringing life out of something that felt stagnant, can be a breath of fresh air that we begin to feel suffocated without.
How do you incorporate creativity into your everyday? How do you feel when you don't?
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