Creativity has been bringing me a lot of joy lately. It started with an urge to “just mess around” in my sewing room. I didn’t complete any particular project that day, but that wasn’t the point. I simply enjoyed exploring combinations of shapes and colours. I began making a point of noticing how creativity was showing up in my life.
I started, as I often do, by paying attention to how creativity expresses itself in the natural world. It shows up in texture, in colour, in shape, in the fall of light or the gathering of shadow. It has little to do with a particular result, and everything to do with what is in the moment.
One of my favourite examples of creativity is the plant that pushes its way up through a crack in concrete. If I were to chose a place to grow, I would not plant myself beneath a concrete slab. Yet, a seed ends up there, and if adequate moisture and warmth are available, it sprouts. Left unimpeded, the tiny bit of growth can multiply to the point of, over a period of years, reducing that concrete slab to rubble.
I’ve experienced a similar effect in my emotional world. There are times when the struggle of living feels like a weight too heavy to bear. I find myself immobilized by a combination of uncomfortable emotions. There is a time to just sit and mourn, and there is also a time to let a different kind of seed germinate in the cracks of my soul. I take a small step motivated by creativity, and the heaviness begins to lift, allowing space for a bigger creative expression. I discover joy in the little acts of play. The heartache doesn’t vanish, but it now has company.
As a writer, Ive experienced creativity as a glorious flow of words that bring a story to life. I’ve also experienced it as a one-phrase-at-a-time effort to give vague thoughts coherent form. In that dance with my own creative impulse, I’ve learned to recognize as creative the sparks I might otherwise dismiss.
- the urge to bake a batch of cookies
- the subtle sigh of pleasure when I look at the piles of colour and texture near my quilting table
- the impulse to weed and mulch my flowerbeds in spring
Recognizing my own creative impulses has honed my ability to see creativity in those around me.
- my personal trainer’s gift for designing a workout perfectly suited to my energy and ability
- a friend’s passion for cultivating a sense of community in an online group
- my Favourite Person’s dedication to solving any kind of problem presented to him
As I’ve made a point of noticing creativity in action, I’ve observed that while it has wildly differing manifestations, it also has some consistently similar qualities.
- It brings together elements that might initially seem unlikely companions—words to create a memorable turn of phrase, an assortment of tools and materials to fix a structural problem, individuals from varying lifestyles and professions united in a common goal.
- The person exhibiting it often doesn’t recognize it for what it is. They feel “it’s just what I do”.
- When honoured and recognized, it tends to multiply. When I recognize my own little sparks of creativity, they open me to more and larger creative impulses. When I tend my own bits of creative expression, I recognize them more readily in others.
- It brings delight to those who witness it in action.
Creativity, even just the simple act of mixing butter and sugar to begin a tasty treat, narrows our attention from the hugeness of what we can’t control to the small, deliberate choices involved in following a recipe, or referencing a pattern, or planning a gathering of friends. It’s not the product that matters, but rather the process of engaging in something that delights us.
Creativity helps us see our own light. Creativity also helps us connect with our own joy, and share it with others. This is the very healing energy we all need, an energy that grows as we each tend the our own gift. Will you join me in one small act of creativity today?
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