Journaling and drawing from the Amazon.
I used to create things.
Drawing. Assembling buildings from wooden blocks. Creating worlds in my mind. Flying around in dreams. Talking to trees. Building toy robots. Sculpting rock. Welding metal. Sketching nudes. Writing blog posts. Recording songs. Filming videos. I loved it all. Different forms of expression. Ideas flowing through me. It was therapeutic. It was cathartic. It was human. It was nourishing.
Somewhere along the way though I became self conscious. As if everything I created had to be perfect. As if everything I produced held dire consequence if it fell below an entirely self-created, impossible to reach standard. As a result, I became afraid of creating. I believed I had to study to create. That only by achieving some self-fabricated level of mastery would I be worthy of creation. I sought pedigree. I followed the herd. At that point the flow stopped. At that point I was no longer generating ideas. I was caught in the fear of creating something less than excellent. So I didn't create. And a part of me became deeply unhappy.
It is only now that I am emerging from this dampened state. To put finger to keyboard, pen to pad and begin creating anew. It is healthy to make things. To learn about the world through building. I cannot afford to fall out of the habit of making. Really none of us can. For if we do, we get caught up in the creations of others. And it is easy to live within the creations of others at the expense of that which wants to come through us. This is not universally a bad thing per se, but going out on our own, risking “everything” by putting pen to pad, or pressing the publish button on a blog or whatever other form of creating tickles our fancy feels like the path to tapping into the fantastic depths that yearn to emerge from each of us.
I want to unleash whatever it is that wants to express itself through me. I believe the expression embodies multiple forms. Writing, drawing, photographs, interviews, videos, websites, community.
Meanwhile, I feel locked into limited forms of expression at work. Focus on data. Focus on logic. Focus on buzzwords. Sometimes and oftentimes I do not care about logic at all. I just want to do what feels right. With no explanation. Follow my intuition and see where it takes me. It has served me well. But to do so I cannot worry about being perfect. I simply must do and see what comes from it. Ever emergent.
Just get it out there. Every day do a little. Until a little turns into more and more. Step by step. Until creating becomes so normal that it is necessary. It becomes the new operating standard. Like exercise I notice that once I start writing, it becomes hard to stop. It feels too good. In all likelihood I am also in the early courting period. The dark night of the soul yet to arise. But I have the luck of the gods on my side, putting wind in the sails of recently departed ships to wish them well on their journeys.
Do a bit of writing each and every day. That's what I'm focused on. Even if I do not know where this is headed. Even if it feels so random and stupid and imperfect. Especially when it feels that way. For the important piece is the act of doing. The quality will come in time. For now though, just get it out. The rest will sort itself out. And being perfect can take a back seat to getting it done.