Lean In

 

I've always considered myself a creative type.

At times I've lost my way, allowed distractions and obstacles along life's journey to make me forget the importance of the creative process to my very being. It's toxic, not finding time to create. Lush scenery begs to be placed into a story whether by way of words, or paints, or photographs--the scenery demands to be a part of the narrative with silent whispers and grand gestures.

 In recent years I found myself with a growing animosity. Not towards any one thing or person but that kernel of self-doubt grew, doubled in size and began to consume me. I couldn't decide if it was my lack of professional success that triggered it after a series of unsuccessful attempts at finding an appropriate home for my specific skill set or if it was the transition into stay at home, work from home motherhood status that left me feeling less valuable as a person. There's no reason that these things should affect me on such a negative scale, but they did and it was not only affecting my well-being but the dynamics of my family life.

 Something had to change.

Knowing this, I've been elbows deep in the journey of finding myself as a creative again. Writing more words, encouraging other artists to do the same and I have come to a conclusion. For myself and many others, in order to grow one must make themselves uncomfortable. Find the discomfort and lean in.

I've captured glimpses of my own discomfort peeking over my shoulder in the last year, making the leap with me to try something new and place myself in the midst of it all. This is an unfamiliar feeling. It is a scary feeling. It is uncomfortable most of all. A voice that shakes to match my quivering hands and a racing heart drumming the foundation of a soundtrack that throws up red flags and commands me to run for my life. I recognize this in some of my peers as well.

Upward and onward I strive to journey.

So I,

 Lean in.

It's like a workout. When you work out your muscles you break the tissue down, tear it, stretch it and it mends together stronger, more resilient. Leaning into the discomfort emotionally and psychologically is no different. As a sensible person I've placed things that make me uncomfortable into compartments, stored them in tidy bins, mentally tucking them away where they cause me zero discomfort. In the process of writing my memoir, (something I've decided to do after reading "The Rules of Inheritance" and listening to author, Claire Bidwell Smith talk during my first retreat experience Write: Doe Bay) I began to peel back the lids of some of those bins, peer inside and rediscover things that I had felt as though I'd come to terms with them. Little did I know how much revisiting those moments would affect me.

I found myself reliving a memory, a painful moment in my childhood that has seemed like hardly an issue since its occurrence. Pen to paper, in a room ocean side surrounded by my peers, I found myself with a sob stifled, stuck in my throat on the cusp. Too large to be swallowed down, the room too full to let the tears flow. Instead I stood up, walked outside to take in the fresh air and realized that this is a part of the creative process. These moments are a prerequisite to the journey of genuine creation.

It'll blindside you.