Dear Creativity,
When it’s taco night, you might as well throw in some margaritas too. After washing the pitcher in which I made the margaritas, I turned it over to read the signature at the bottom. I made this pitcher in May of 2010 and this particular week it made me pause. I blame the staycation. My mind was relaxed and I was in no rush.
May 2010 …
- marked a little over a year since I lost my mother to cancer
- was a year after my job was cut to 50% and I went on the search for a new one
- was about a year at a new job, in a city that was an hour and 15-minute commute one-way when the traffic stars were aligned
- I lived 7 months in a new apartment, in a new city, where I knew no one
- I learned I could do hard things
This was more than a pitcher, it was the sign I needed to know everything was going to be all right. I was in survival mode, and yet reconnecting to you, Creativity, brought me a moment of peace I didn’t even know I could find in a pottery painting shop hanging out with work colleagues I barely knew. Reflecting on this moment makes me wonder…
How might we as busy adults prioritize creative respites to keep us healthy and thriving in the daily grind?
As we navigate the ebb and flow of life’s challenges, it’s worth considering the unexpected sources of solace that surround us that you, Creativity provide us every day if we take the time to recognize the importance of our partnership. Perhaps it’s a long-forgotten hobby, a new skill waiting to be explored, or even a simple act of creation – like painting a pitcher. These moments of creative expression can serve as anchors, grounding us amidst life’s storms and reminding us of our resilience.
When we take a moment to look around us, you reveal to us so many things. The everyday objects in our lives hold stories of personal growth and unexpected joy. How might these seemingly ordinary items invite us to pause, reflect, and reconnect with ourselves?
As a culture, we more often than not find ourselves at the crossroads of grinding, busy, and endless possibilities. The threads of creativity are often waiting to be woven into moments of respite. When I close my eyes, I hear you whisper to me, Creativity, offering me a chance to step back from the daily grind and rediscover the vibrant colors of my inner world. The next time I feel overwhelmed by life’s demands, I will remember: my next moment of peace and renewal might be hiding in plain sight, waiting for me to pick up a paintbrush, a pen, a spatula, a microphone, or whatever tool speaks to my soul and you will be there to celebrate and collaborate with me as I make a pitcher and move through the pile of lemons.
Innovatively yours,
Dr. Abigail
