This week it has hit home, that not only does it take a village to raise a family, but it takes an entire city to make creative endeavors a reality. I am continually blown away by those willing to step into my chaotic life and help me achieve forward momentum. Men and women alike. Thank you does not seem to sum it up, but I am ever thankful!
So I ask, who makes up your village?
There are two kinds of people in this world. Okay. Maybe more than two, but for the moment, there seem to be two categories in my life. Those that suck energy and those that give.
The time suckers, for the most part, tend to be an obvious part of my life — no matter how much I love them.
But then there are those, who I strive to surround myself with. Without a doubt, they give me energy in abundance by just being in their presence. To sit with them, sip coffee, and hear of their own whirlwind of creation and brilliance, helps to manifest my own creative tendency. It’s contagious. Enlightening. Energetic.
So I ask, who gives you energy?
I am recognizing a pattern with my 7-year-old son. A familiar pattern that harkens back to my own childhood. Where the smallest kernel of an idea turns into a wild tiger and all you can do is hold tight to the tail and ride out the uninhibited passion until the next big idea comes along.
It’s as simple as seeing a bug collection, and Rylan insists on starting his own collection—immediately, in the dark, with a make-shift box in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He sees explosions on Myth Busters and suddenly I find him armed with test tubes and ingredients that make me cringe and reach for the mop. He gathers rope and some wood, and insists we build a multi-tiered tree house that can be inhabited by our entire family and dog.
It’s refreshing. It’s contagious. It’s exhausting. And yet, it makes me hopeful that I too, can shake loose the inhibitions instilled with age and hold tight to the thrashing tiger without thought or care.
So I ask, when was the last time your enthusiasm was unbridled?
I was painting—in my dream.
Not controlled, disciplined painting, but splashing color after color across multiple canvases. My movements uninhibited as I poured, drizzled, layered. There was no goal. No criteria. Just freedom to create. Forge. The act of it freeing. I could feel the energy of the moment seeping into my body as I lay in bed, lifting my creative spirit and sending it soaring.
But my body did what every body does in the morning—it felt the inevitable pull to wake up and start the day. I tried to force it back. I didn’t want to wake up. I didn’t need to wake up, it was early, the house was still quiet. But really, I just didn’t want the creative moment to come to an end.
You see, I’ve been in the desert. Life has taken over, needing my attention, making demands on my time, forcing creativity to ride in the back seat. A necessity of life, but one that leaves me parched and thirsty. And while I need to take care of life, my mind and body gently remind me to take time to be true to myself. To create. To forge.
So I ask, how are you reminded to be true to yourself?
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