Dear Creativity,
The first big rain of the season caught me off guard and came in and out in a short period. In the darkness of the morning light, I could hear the forcefulness of its drops on the pavement and walls of the complex. My curiosity got the best of me and as I went to open the blinds to peer out onto the porch, I realized that this rain was fierce. Not only was it blowing inward, but coming through the porch above. This was not something I had experienced in the past.
So I quickly sprang into action as I moved my table not built for the outdoors inward toward safety and closed the curtains I hung to keep the dirt from the leaf blowers at bay because perhaps it could limit some of the water that was soaking the rug and potentially a few things I had on a shelf. I am still not sure what has happened to the box of corks I was storing for the ultimate craft project, but as I stepped outside on the cold damp rug, I knew it had to wait.
Creativity, I know you know I have been collecting those corks since my spouse and I started our epic wine adventures together and were inspired by several projects that involved corks. The cork collection process lives on, but where is the project? Lost in the places of inspiration, postponed by the lack of space or the lack of a stable home environment, or shoved down the pile of creative projects just waiting for the right time to emerge from the land of put-off projects. Now I am wondering do I have to grieve the loss of what was going to be, due to a little rain. This has me thinking…
What are the conditions necessary for us to seize the moment to embrace our creative desires so they aren’t lost in future patterns that we can’t recover from?
As adults, we are conditioned to believe that being creative, playing, being joyful, wondering about the future and daydreaming are only the affordances of a child. As adults we must be serious, keep on that hamster wheel, and grind until we literally sometimes grind ourselves into a pulp, all the while hoping for a different outcome that never reveals itself. There is one thing I know for sure, Creativity, and that is that without you I am no good, so let’s figure out those conditions that will help me partner with you even when my adult sensibilities want to overpower my kidlike desires to play and let go of it all.
Creativity, my friend, maybe it’s not about perfect conditions at all. Perhaps those corks, whether waterlogged or intact, are reminding me that inspiration doesn’t expire like the wine they once preserved. What if we stopped waiting for the “right time” and instead created tiny pockets of possibility amid our adult responsibilities?
You see, I’m beginning to understand that partnering with you isn’t about having an entire day free or a perfect craft room or even all my supplies in pristine condition. It’s about giving ourselves permission to play in the in-between moments, to scribble ideas on grocery lists, to let our minds wander during our morning coffee. Maybe the conditions we need aren’t external at all – they’re the internal choices we make to keep our connection alive.
So here’s my promise to you, Creativity: I won’t wait for perfect anymore. I’ll carve out small spaces in my day where you’re welcome to visit, even if it’s just for five minutes between meetings. I’ll stop apologizing for my half-finished projects and start seeing them as evidence of our ongoing conversation. And yes, if those corks are salvageable, we’ll make something beautiful – not because we have to, but because creating together brings me joy.
Perhaps the next time it rains, I take your hand to go dance in it instead of worrying about what might get wet.
Innovatively yours,
Dr. Abigail
