I Almost Didn't Survive The Creative Life.
/Originally posted January 20, 2016
I read a post by Glennon this morning over at Momastery and it SCREAMED at me. I mean, I don't think Glennon was screaming necessarily, but her message was (and I wouldn't put it past her - she's a feisty one, that G - to lovingly scream her message out for all of us to hear).
Anyway, she was talking about creativity, about how some of us get burned out being publicly creative people because we attach ourselves not just to our creative product, but to the response to our creative product. We end up doing jobs that aren't ours - we become public defenders of our work instead of just doing the job we're here to do - in my case, writing words and making stuff.
Ahem.
*Cough, cough.*
I identified so completely with her essay this morning that I decided you needed to read it, too.
I wasn't sure how to continue being creatively in the world because I was so caught up with wanting - desperately at times - to make sure that what I was saying was palatable to as many as people as possible, as often as possible. Which is bullshit. Because who's out there being interesting, appealing to everyone? No one, that's who. It's not my job to worry about how my opinions or thoughts or experiences land when I write them down and give them to the world. It's not my job to defend them. And it's not my job to apologize for getting fired up sometimes. Passionate people get passionate, period the end.
I've spent a whole lot of time over these many quiet weeks thinking about...well, everything. I've been thinking about us, about you and me. About what I want to say to you and why. I've been thinking about how looking at my life and the situations I find myself in with new eyes - with fresh, tables-turned perspective - opens up possibilities I've never before considered. That's a bit vague, I know. Sometimes things are a little bit vague.
I didn't want to fail at living a creative life, I just wasn't sure how to maintain my creativity without getting my soul completely enmeshed and stomped on in the process. After reading G's piece this morning, I sense that it might be a whole lot easier to do than I thought. Write the words. Hit publish. Walk away.
I think I can do that.
***
And to you, sweet one, I say: Hi. I love you. And I've been missing the hell outta you. Here's to us, making our way back to each other.
Oh, and because I only get things done when there are deadlines involved, let's set a date for my online shop to open, shall we? Otherwise these towels are going to sit here, all boring and white, for eons.
How's about February 25th? Seems as good a date as any other, right? Okay, great! The new shop - where I'll be selling embroidered kitchen towels and a few hand-strung necklaces - will be opening on February 25, 2016 - you heard it here first!
Lovin' on you in just the biggest way you can imagine,
*E