A Taste of Freedom
Recently yet another client of mine looked in the mirror and discovered that they were, in fact, an artist.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that this is just one of the many reasons I continue to love my work.
Yeah, I’ll admit I’m kinda biased when it comes to people outing their creative selves. I think it comes with having not one, but two art degrees and, with a couple of notable exceptions, pursuing creatively fulfilling work and extracurriculars my entire adult life.
There’s also a philosophical come-from that says if you’re human, you’re born creative. (And yes, I’ve had things to say about folks pouring the bulk of their creative energies into crafting arguments denying their creativity. Very creative!)
Like so many others, my client had dedicated themselves to following the culture’s path to achievement and success – and indeed, they achieved and succeeded…
And they got tired and bored with it, which is what happens when one leaves an important, passionate piece of one’s Self behind.
To be clear, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with professional achievement and success. Nor is there anything inherently problematic about climbing a corporate ladder if that is what you’re called to do.
It’s just that things get funky when, rather than following a clear calling, people push those callings away in favor of what society holds as a safer and/or more acceptable path.
The irony is that we elevate artists to near-mythical status while encouraging our kids to follow roads paved in pragmatism.
Could be me, but I get the feeling Dave Matthews and Bruce Springsteen are having even more fun on stage than the folks who shelled out big bucks to ticket resellers – but that might be a topic for another time.
What’s true is I’ve had the honor of serving as a creative birth attendant to several budding artists, and it’s always – always – ridiculously satisfying to witness what feels like a full-tilt soul-level home-coming.
It’s rarely about monetizing their work, though that does happen. It’s more about welcoming back and taking ownership of a part of themselves they’ve been missing for decades.
The reunions are spectacular!
By the way, the experience of bringing the inner artist home is similar across genders – and men seem to need just a bit more permission (from themselves) to open the door.
Here’s the thing: Creativity takes many forms. What’s most important is that, when it knocks, you answer.
It needn’t be hard. Nor does it need to be handed off to the judging mind. Nor do you need to demand that everything you create is a masterpiece. (No one ever created masterpieces without creating lots of non-masterpieces.)
Your creative spirit simply needs to be allowed time and space to express itself. You get to be allowed time and space to express yourself and savor a taste of freedom. It’s very, very good…
And, in case you were wondering, the perfectly imperfect time to take that taste just happens to always be “now.”
This very moment is, after all, the only one we get.