As the days get shorter and the dark gets deeper, it’s all the more important to care for our bodies, our minds, and our souls, and one of the most powerful ways we care for our souls is to create.
Creating gives us space to process our world and ourselves.
“Practice any art, music, singing, dancing, acting, drawing, painting, sculpting, poetry, fiction, essays, reportage, no matter how well or badly, not to get money and fame, but to experience becoming, to find out what’s inside you, to make your soul grow.”
— Kurt Vonnegut
Creating reminds us of meaning, assigns meaning and helps us express meaning.
Creating leaves space for the unsolved, the wonder, the mystery.
This week we are creating space for creativity.
Take a moment and think about what you create.
Don’t think you are creative?
There are countless ways we create.
Some are more obvious, creating items we can see and touch.: Painters, sculptors, paper artists, repurposers, woodworkers.
Some people create experiences that exist for a moment (or sometimes captured for longer): Singers, dancers, musicians, speakers.
And there are hundreds of other ways we create:
Creating a meal for ourselves/our families
Creating a safe space for conversations with a friend
Creating solutions for problems
Each of those creations need space – mentally, emotionally, and often spatially – for creation to take place.
This week we are creating room for our art.
This will look a little different for everyone.
Perhaps creating space looks like adding an “create” block to your calendar and telling yourself and others, “I am booked from 9-11 on Saturday.”
Or maybe it means gathering your supplies in one place. You may not have a designated writing desk or craft table, but could you collect your essentials in one basket/drawer/tote?
To make space to create (like most things in life), we need to make choices. We have to acknowledge we can’t do everything at once.
I LOVE making crocheted pumpkins in fall. I keep a basket of yarn, needles, and stuffing by the couch so I can have everything I need to make pumpkins from start to finish as I sit and stare out the window.
I’m planning a gallery show in a few weeks, showcasing some of my repurposed and upcycled art. In order to prepare for that show, I had to take some time this week to say goodbye to pumpkin season. My tools, stuffing, yarn, etc got packed back up into their suitcase in the basement, contained and tucked away for next season. Now the basket by the couch can be reassigned for my repurposed art in progress. As I switched out my projects for the season, I also came across a few supplies for a project I would LOVE to learn or or get better at. But I know I do not have the capacity in this season, and so keeping them just means they whisper to me every time I walk by them, like a non-stop audible to-do list; and they make it harder for me to clear things out of the way to create the art I’m able to do in this season.
As you think about your space to create, take a moment to acknowledge – We can’t do ALL the things. What is your creative focus in THIS season? Not “what did I have time for before I had this job/kids, etc”, not “what do I want to do when I ‘have a little more time?’”
What one thing can you make space to focus on now?
Let’s get creative with our weekly homework assignments:
101: Choose your one thing for this season of your life. Is it writing? Dancing? Stop motion videos of felted from and toad doing gentle homemaking tasks? (man, I miss seeing that Instagram account. Does it still exist?)
Once you’ve chosen your “thing,” dedicate space for it:
- A table near an outlet for your laptop and notebook.
- A few hours on your calendar to focus on your craft.
- A basket by the couch for wool and a felting needle to make your frog a tiny hat.
201: Each day, clear away something that doesn’t serve your current creative outlet:
- An unfinished project that whispers shame every time you move it.
- A pile of materials that belong to a past season.
- An hour of doomscrolling that doesn’t actually calm your spirit.
Extra Credit Reflection: When I look at things I’ve kept (unfinished projects, bins of materials, bookmarked ideas, calendar appointments) What stories are they telling?
Are the supplies and ideas for who I am now? Or who I was? Or who I wish I were? What would it look like to honor the season I’m actually in, instead of waiting for a “better” one?
Can I release something that belongs to a different version of me, so the current me has room to breathe, process, and create?
Uncovering Real 