Creativity as Self Expression

 The wonderful artist, Vincent van Gogh, once wrote, "Express hope through a star, longing through a radiant sunset." Which I think is a brilliant summary of the ways in which creativity can help us to express ourselves and to maintain balance in our lives.

Until about fifteen years ago, I didn't consider myself to be a creative person. Sure, I enjoyed putting together my worship services, and stitched numerous cross-stitch projects, but I didn't consider these things to be creative - in fact, I referred to my cross-stitch projects as "paint by numbers with needle and thread."

Then a dear friend challenged me, when she was teaching me how to Zen doodle, and I said, "I'm sorry, I'm not a creative person." She pointed out quite firmly that being creative was the birthright of us all and that there were a myriad ways for this creativity to come out. I didn't have to be a brilliant artists

 to describe myself as creative. And this affirmation opened a door for me, for which I will be forever grateful.

I have recently been re-reading Elizabeth Gilbert's fabulous book, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. She defines "creative living" as "living a life that is driven more strongly by curiosity than by fear." She describes it as, "cooperating fully, humbly, and joyfully with inspiration." 

Doesn't that sound fun? We (and I mean every single person with a heartbeat) can learn to express our creativity in a multitude of ways, and hence living a fuller, more joyful life. Liz Gilbert has taught me that it doesn't matter whether we "succeed" in the world's terms; the thing which matters is that we choose to spend at least part of our time bringing something new and never before seen into the world. 

Since that day my friend challenged me, told me I absolutely *was* creative, I have spent much of my spare time writing and crocheting - my two favourite expressions of creativity. And doing either of them brings me so much happiness, so much fulfilment.

How do you live a creative life?

Visit from the Inspiration Fairy

 All writers sometimes struggle to find the right words. So this week's quotation, by poet William Blake, rang very true with me: "Don't be afraid of your imagination! No bird can fly too high using its own wings."

Which cheered me up no end. It seems as though even such a great poet as Blake sometimes needed a little nudge to set him off in the right direction.

Many writers and artists of all kinds believe they have a muse, who helps them when they are stuck and enables them to produce their best work. Stephen King calls his, "the boys in the basement", which I rather like. Liz Gilbert, in her wonderful book, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear,  makes a distinction between being a genius (which is tough to live up to) and having a genius, a benevolent spirit who occasionally shows up to help creative artists. I call mine the Inspiration Fairy.

Gilbert also has a fascinating theory about ideas, believing them to be "a disembodied, energetic life-form. They are completely separate from us, but capable of interacting with us... Ideas have no material body, but they do have consciousness, and they most certainly have will. Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest. And the only way an idea can be made manifest in our world is through collaboration with a human partner." And that this not only applies to the creative arts, but also to science, religion, philosophy, industry, commerce and politics - all the areas which need new ideas to flourish and grow.

She makes it clear that our part is to show up and be willing to engage with the idea. That we have to make a commitment to the writing (or painting or crafting) process and then, only then, once the Idea is positive that we are serious about it, may inspiration strike. She emphasises that for most writers, inspiration only turns up on rare occasions. 

I have found this to be true. Most of a writer's (or artist's) work is about showing up and putting in the hours. As she explains, "There is no time or space where inspiration comes from - and also no competition, no ego, no limitations. There is only the stubbornness of the idea itself, refusing to stop searching until it has found an equally stubborn collaborator.... Work with that stubbornness. Work with it as openly and trustingly and diligently as you can. Work with all your heart, because... if you show up for your work day after day after day, you just might get lucky enough some random morning to burst right into bloom."

It is wonderful when it happens. For me it generally occurs when I am on the edge of sleep, mulling over the events of the day. And suddenly, I will get an idea for the next scene of my book (or how to correct an old scene that I wasn't happy with). Or some lines for a poem. Or a topic for this week's service. I have found that the only thing to do is to put the light on, sit up, pick up notebook and pen and scribble it down. I have learned by bitter experience that it's no good believing I will remember it in the morning. At least, not for me. 

And this idea of visits from inspiration can apply to our ordinary lives. So long as we make a commitment to follow the best that we know, we will often be give a nudge out of the door. Which enables us to lives passionate, creative lives.

Finding Your Own Place

The Greek philosopher Plato wrote, "There is a place that you have to fill that no-one else can fill, and there is something for you to do that no-one else can do."

By sheer, gorgeous serendipity, this fits in beautifully with the audio book I have been listening to this week, Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. Its sub-title is 'Creative Living beyond Fear' and it is about exactly what Plato says. Finding your own creative place in the universe, and writing / painting / crafting / creating what you do, because it is yours to do.

When I first read it, I had not dipped my toe into the (to me) dangerous waters of fiction writing. I had written a memoir, Gems for the Journey, and was about to start doing the research for my book about Unitarianism in the UK, Unitarians: Together in Diversity.  And of course, I was writing an address each week, as part of my role as a minister. Which, although I did not realise it, was helping me to find my 'voice' as a writer.

So although I had no difficulty in seeing myself as a writer, the idea of writing fiction was a scary one. Where would I get the ideas? What if they stopped coming? What if the ideas were stupid? How could I dream up something original? How would I be able to hold a reader's attention?

Then I joined Northampton Writing Circle, a monthly group for local writers. We meet at the Quaker Meeting House, and are given a topic / theme to write a short story about, each month, by our Chairman. Then, the following month, we read our contributions aloud to each other, and receive the group's critiques. I had never attempted to write a short story before, but I thought, 'How difficult can it be?'

I had so much to learn...

At first, I found it very difficult to receive feedback about my stories. Any criticism (as I perceived it) left me feeling prickly and defensive. But I gradually realised that if I received it with an open and grateful heart, I would learn more, and slowly, very slowly, my writing has improved.

Reading Liz Gilbert's book was a real boost in this process. She shares her philosophy that being creative should be fun and stimulating and inspirational. That the idea of The Suffering Artist is a toxic one. If writing (or painting or whatever) gives you so much grief, why do it?! She taught me that writing can be a joyful process, something that would feed my heart and soul.

And so it has proved. After I had read Big Magic for the first time, I thought to myself, "Why not?" and started the long, slow, but infinitely rewarding process of writing my first novel. Which I managed to fit in alongside doing the research for my Unitarian book, and the day job, being a Unitarian minister. Then I revised it, and revised it again. Then, in fear and trembling, I asked the Writing Circle's Chairman, who is also a professional editor, to edit it for me.

Which was a whole 'nother learning process in itself. By the time he / we had finished with my MS, it was much tighter, better structured, and more readable. I began to hope that I might find a publisher. And I did! My novel will be coming out on 1st October this year.

But if I had listened to the gremlins, who were telling me that my writing was no good, that I could never write a fiction book, this would never have happened. I would never have found "my place", which no-one else can fill.

What place might you have to fill, that is yours alone?