Short contemplation here on an aspect of creativity for those of us who step out into the world of potential disaster. No, really. Isn’t this the manner in which we often look at what we do?
Not all the time, I get that. When we’re in the throes of creative passion, our work becomes larger than life on a scale which sometimes threatens to devour us. We thrill in the process of giving ourselves to our passion. We don’t merely have sex with our writing, we make love to it, and when we REALLY give ourselves over, we make love with our creativity.
But what about those other times? What about the steps we walk, the mundania we suffer and the doubts and fears which threaten to overwhelm and consume us. I’m sure every creative person struggles at some level outside their internal “zone of creative passion.”
I woke this day to the thought of what it means to create something from nothing. To place your potential livelihood into the nebulous hands of your chaotic inner muses. To live at times daily with reality biting pieces of your heart and brain leaving you with a muddled mess of insecurities and fears.
At some point, you must decide to either play at creativity part time or commit. Who has commitment issues? Just because you commit to full-time creativity endeavor will by no means chase your demons away. In fact, too often this position awakens beasts within which you never understood nor ever desired to face.
A couple great things happened to me in the midst of a gestalt-creative-fear-meltdown this day. One, the love of my life and fuel for my heart communicated love for me in a most non-blatant, even ultra-subtle manner in which she would have to stop and examine simply to understand how deeply and desperately I needed that show of affection.
At times this condition of fear and inner questioning becomes so debilitating and so ridiculous that if anyone were inside my emotional ball of chaos they would certify me nuts. But one innocuous, mundane, basic beyond belief show of love and commitment can take a meltdown to a blog post and a re-energizing of creative passion and confidence.
Combine that incident with three other positive notions and my jet engines roar and I feel hope once again. I stumbled through the Facebook Desert, locked to my bedsheets in dread and foreclosure on my foundational creativity, and tripped across this podcast by James Wedmore:
This cuts to the core of my desire in promoting writing. This strikes to the very heart of my strength, my love, my soul, my purpose.
Next, a dear writer friend, Mary Rogers-Grantham posted this quote from Anne Rice: “To write something, you have to risk making a fool of yourself.”
These two items were enough to get feet on the floor and action behind my mind. Then My Princess called. We truly didn’t exchange mushy romantic pillow talk. She wanted to find time for us to be together. In a nutshell, she let me know she desired my physical presence in her life. I’m important to her.
She loves me.
Hence these keystrokes. But this should not stop here as some cutesy little story about restored hope and motivation. My truth stands as this – the abject responsibility to be able to rally myself cannot depend solely on others. As creative artists, we must work through our angst, our fear, our terror, our despair, our waning confidence diving like a meteor crashing into the surface of the atmospherically challenged moon, and somehow, someway, become self-sufficient in our own quirky way.
That stated, surrounding yourself with people who love and support you often helps you find that connection to viability, motivation, and courage. We need to care far less about what others think of us and our creative endeavors and care exponentially more about what we think of who we are and what we desire to accomplish in our lives.
I don’t tend to ponder blog posts. I puke them out, just as I encourage writers to puke out their books. I may go back over this writing a time or two in an effort to catch typos and to see if the words make any sense, but for the most part, the writing will always remain raw, right off the fingertips of my heart.
My dear, dear friend Ayesha gave me that encouragement years ago. She told me she loved the power of my raw writing. This comes from one of the most incredible writers I’ve ever had the pleasure to read. She handed me a compliment which concerned my most beloved aspect of writing, the pure words. She validated me, but more importantly, her kindness helped me validate myself.
So, now I’ve meandered all about and amazingly, the title I placed on this post before I wrote a word remains valid. What we need to hear, yes indeed, are the encouragements of others, but if we never take that encouragement the next step and hear our own deepest inner voices speak the very same words to our souls, we will remain awash in our own destruction.
What we need to hear as creative artists is our own voice validate our efforts and speak love over what we choose to motivate ourselves to create. I vehemently recommend you search for truth within and make something of that truth in everything you do. Don’t do it for money. Don’t do it for others. Hear your voice of creativity in your heart, nurture this gift, and boldly present your expression to the world – not for the world’s approval, but for yourself and the connection which might help someone else sharing life with you on this planet.
Hear yourself honestly say that you believe in yourself. That’s what we need to hear. We won’t always hear that voice proclaim this. Too much of our creativity comes from the negatives of this life. When you question yourself and your worth, however, this is the time to parade that stalwart voice which foundationally either stands tall or crumbles.
Others will help you get there. This day I’ve listed four. Ultimately though, you will have to decide to forage for that inner voice of personal validation. Strive for that. Search for your core strength. Find what you need to hear. Others may echo this voice and remind you, but this voice will ultimately be your own. Cultivate your inner belief in yourself.
Hear what you need most to hear.