As I write, the sun beams down on me warming my skin and beckoning me to close my eyes so I may just sit and enjoy this comforting feeling.
I am at ease. Even with the news and media from the world telling me otherwise, I believe I am safe here, cocooned in the bubble of my own world – shared only with my dog, cat and fiancé. This is what truly matters. I am so fortunate to be in such a position. When the world crumbles around me, I am one of the lucky ones- able to retreat into my own small reality where I am safe and I am loved.
Where I am free to let down my guard and sink into serenity.
Creativity is bolder than before. It comes so confidently this time, as thought she knows that no one else is around to shame her into submission. With no other narratives to interrupt her or interject, she runs free through the hall ways, slowly filling the room like a beautiful song that crescendos higher and higher until a certain bliss is reached.
She calls to me. Drawing me in with whispers that only I can hear. Giving me permission to get lost in her song.
All I can do is accept as I discover that my thoughts are already intertwined into some sweet honey and molasses train of thought that leads me to reflect and reach out to avenues of creativity I did not realise where open to me.
Oh how I had missed her. How I had called for her. So many times before only to be left in the sounds of my own echo coming back to me. Perhaps the my intentions with her were not pure. Perhaps because I wanted her for someone else and not for myself, she alluded me and keeping herself just out of my reach.
Like an old friend, she knows me inside out. Sometime even better than I know myself. I sense surprise in my discoveries as she pulls back a weighted curtain that been in place for far too long, letting the light back into my mind with fresh air that seems to expel a stifled staleness that had made my mind it’s home, like a uninvited guest who outstays the reluctant welcome you felt forced into giving.
With the veil lifted, suddenly the colours come back. Seeming as though they are brighter than before, almost as if they realise they are now on show, able to be seen and never wanting to be confined to darkness again. Each vibrant hue takes on it’s own personality, eager to be utilised. Ready to stretch out and fill space wherever they can find it.
Creativity holds me close, enfolding me into her peaceful presence and offering herself as a gentle guide as she encourages me to drift further and deeper into my soul so that I may become enlighten and energised. Ready to do her bidding.
Hungry to accept the creative nourishment only she can provide for I have been starved for far too long.
She does not always stay long, sometimes only stopping in to remind me that she still exists inside me. I am always sad to see her go and never quite prepared or ready for the moment when she turns her gaze from mine and disappears with a sly and playful smile. Like a small child, I always want more. More time. More connection. More comfort and more freedom to meander around the ideas she has gifted me. For when she is gone, try as I might, I stumble unconfidently with uneasy steps as I try to follow the same path she has laid out for me so many times before. It is though, without her, I lose my power. I clutch outwardly but unsuccessfully to hold on to the brightest strings of thought. However much I focus, my ability to create beauty and understanding is not the same without her steady hand there to counsel me.
But now, with our connection deepened, she comes more often and lingers for longer, as if she knows that we will not be interrupted. She has my full and complete attention. Aware that she no longer must compete with the noise and politics I so often fall prey to, creativity let’s me know that she is happy to stay with me as she beds down into my subconscious.
As for myself… I will be the most gracious of hosts. I have a openness and willingness that perhaps before I was not able to commit. Always hoping that half heart promises would be enough and feeling abandoned when she made clear that that was not enough.
Oh sweet sweet creativity. You heal me in a way that no doctor or shrink could ever even attempt to match. And believe me. They have tried.
But they do not have your talent to lead me into reflection. They do not possess your ability to soothe me into exploring past times and places in my memory. Giving me just enough space to figure it all out on my own but ready to slip hints and inspiration when I find I am stuck.
Once again, I am back in the sun. I can see further than before, clearly able to focus on what next will offer up some joy. Closing my eyes, I fall back into the recline of my chair. And I know in this moment, I am just where I am supposed to be.