The Challenge of a Creative Life
It has been MONTHS since I've written to you here in this soft space. Thank you for gently awaiting my return. I so appreciate you are here.
Much has been aflutter during my blogging pause. Much. I took a moment of hiatus because I became present to something from my past that needed attention and honoring. An incomplete project that called my focus.
Right after Ella Pearl was born, I was suddenly given the gift of inspiration. I created a program, I named Manifestation Mastery. While today the title of it no longer resonates ("mastery" is sooooo masculine and "manifestation" was a word of the time, but today is a bit yesterday), the concepts created and lessons learned felt still very robust and needing air once again. So in these past months I have been working with the words, wisdom, and teachings of eight years ago. Simmering, stewing, and enhancing them. Today, after all these years of motherhood -- the ultimate in creative projects -- I am enjoying the process of infusing the wisdom of past with the harvest of motherhood, new experience, and maturity.
These old, but new bits are being transformed into a book. And books require love, so I've been giving this new book my mother sunshine.
Thus I've been away, but still very present. The door has been closed to the little Radiant100 cottage, but the warmth of creative fire still burns present within.
Today, I felt, for absolutely no reason and with no planning or thinking, a simple desire to write here. Not on my book, not on my new business projects, but here. And for just a moment. Visiting you, my friend, for a lunch date, knowing we may not see each other again for what could be a few months again. But enjoying our connection heartily here and now.
This is, I suppose the great challenge of a creative life. Allowing space for creation to come, pause, sprout again, and grow. Allowing things to complete in their best time. (Best is a carefully chosen word. Not "right" or "perfect" or "desired." But "best.") Sometimes our creations require mad passion. Other times, it's more of a soft walk in the woods. It's the knowing of what each project is, and how we are guided to engage in them at any particular time -- it's this knowing that sets us free from the hankering guilt of incompletion. It's the knowing that allows us to set something aside that just isn't sprouting, or when we realize something else needs our attention first.
I'm learning that this dance of creative unfolding is mysterious, dynamic, and also deeply effective. I see my old new book coming together now after all these years forgotten, dormant. And I love what it is becoming because I allowed myself to set it aside to see if it would again one day return.
Delighted that it has returned.
And delighted that you still are here too. Reflecting my own inner acceptance of a creative process that often comes in fits and starts.
So thank you. See you again sometime soon.