Permission

Lately I've needed permission to step outside of my routine and engage with my creativity. I have spurts of creativity, but they are short lived and usually I have to go back to work and put the project brewing in my head or on the page to the side. It's an uncomfortable feeling, but there are bills to be paid.
Logic would say I could just come back to it when I get home. Emotionally? Sometimes I am chomping at the bit to get home and get back to work. Sometimes I just don't have it in me.

For a long time I believed whole heartedly that my job, with the drama and chaos that is inherent in a mental health facility as well as the insidious and abundant amount of paperwork, would kill my ability to write a coherent sentence outside of the typical and generic. That belief  did not do me any favors and it did what I was afraid of my work doing. It zapped my ability to create and overtime I just grew more and more frustrated until eventually I  gave up writing all together. I write here a couple times a month. When I first started this blog I had thought to commit to posting 4-5 times a week.

I seriously do not have that kind of energy. Lesson learned and I began posting only when I wanted to. Problem with that was that I forgot I had a blog when something fun or interesting would pop up. I of course remembered the blog at a later date and began posting a little more regularly. I think 2x a month is my average.I did not look at the actual information and am just flying by the seat of my pants on this number.

And then creativity came back, just like that. It just re-appeared as though it had disapperated and went on holiday in Fiji and came back when I least expected it. But when I sat down to write, what I wrote was very stilted, awkward, and it looked very forced. This, I believe, is exactly as it was supposed to be. I am grateful inspiration struck again. I am glad that I was able to step out of my routine, play a little hooky, and spend the day alone and playing. The funny thing was, right before this occurred, I had contacted an old writing group acquaintance who I knew was some kind of coach. It just so happened she is a creativity coach. She and I had met once or twice and communicated a bit on facebook.  We met for coffee and had a nice chat and I learned a thing or two. Things I had not stopped to really know about myself. 

I am a very hands-on person. I like textures, I shop for clothing by feel first and second by sight. Yes, I have bought some hideous things because they were comfortable. I knit, I crochet, I was a potter for 10 years, and I am most at home when my hands are involved and there is some kind of physicality to the project. At these times it is also when I do the most processing, digesting, and formulating. I don't have to have silence, but noise that is intrusive is not my friend. I am a person who likes her solace, who believes everyone has basic human rights and I have believed this since childhood. So with this information she told me write when the impulse strikes, do not sit down and write every morning or night at the same time for the same amount of time. I should create with my hands first, my mind will follow. And it does. When I am working on a blanket or scarf or hat my mind is on my knitting, but it is also on other projects. I build worlds and people when I am doing something that requires a high level of concentration and silence. Writing is not second nature to me, not anymore. But I think with time, as I use painting, fiber, yarn, tile, glass, and grout I will increase play in my life.

I was asked to get some house paint and paint a wall, somewhere in my house. That immediately reminded me that I have never finished my reading room and right after I parted from her company I went to my preferred Home Improvement store and bought my paint. A beautiful dusty red called Rhubarb for my reading room and a caramelly brown called corkboard for the bathroom I have wanted to work on for a few years.

So I shall see how this goes!