Creativity – Voices in My Head

We Created It, You know.

I stood propped in the corner of an elevator bemoaning my fate. The thought of having to haul myself out into the blazing heat for yet one more day of pavement pounding in search of sales was horrifying. Put me out of my misery. Just shoot me now.

The elevator stopped to pick up Mr. FedEx man. A breath of fresh air, he was. Bright, crisp and clean. How does he do that, I wonder? My reply to his cheery ‘good morning’ was a gloomy “Yes. Well it would be if I didn’t have to go out and walk around inside a furnace all day.

“Well we created it, you know.” Two floors later, the elevator door opened and he vanished as quickly as he appeared. When the door closed a light bulb went on.

Well of course! Late winter had dragged on through May into mid-June. People were yearning for the beautiful, balmy weather of spring. Everywhere I went, I heard the same mantra: “When is it gonna get hot?” The collective cry was heard, and the universe kindly obliged by zapping us from late winter into a brutal, searing heat wave. Zero to a 100 in 30 seconds. This terminal heat wave was sucking the life energy out of people, and creating a negative pall in the air. It was palpable. I felt it every day as I walked into office after office. We were all victims of Mother Nature.

I wondered—if so many were repeating the same “When is it gonna get hot” mantra, could we have created a heat wave with our thoughts? If we change our thoughts, can we change the weather?

I exited the elevator with new enthusiasm and purpose. Out into the blazing heat I went, determined to see what I could do to change the weather—or at the very least change the negative pall that was afflicting those I encountered throughout the day.

I made it a point to visit as many offices as possible that day. I told everyone I met about my elevator encounter and my experiment to see about changing the weather. I parroted Mr. FedEx’s words, quickly followed by the suggestion that if enough of us put our minds to it, perhaps we could create the perfect weather. The suggestion alone was enough to uplift spirits and brighten outlooks.

And guess what? The next morning the world awoke to a beautiful, perfect, clear, bright, glorious spring day. Imagine that.

Last night while trying to drift off to sleep, I thought about Mr. FedEx and my little experiment. I observed my mind as it catapulted from one meaningless thought to another and was reminded once again that I have dominion over my thoughts. It is up to me to decide what to think. What am I creating in my mind?

Imagine the power of thought. Imagine how the world would change if we were all on the same page and using our creative genius to envision a world of love instead of a world of fear. If we are powerful as individuals, imagine how unstoppable we are as a group.

Have you thought about your thoughts lately?

Can you think of a time when a belief or thought became a reality for you? I would love to hear about it in the comments section. Thank you for reading, and please share!

The Magic of Creation

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In response to a recent blog, The Soul of Service, in which I again questioned my writing commitment, a friend reminded me that when one is prompted by the soul to write, whether it is daily or every other day, it is inner knowing that counts, rather than a slavish following of a personality idea of what one should be doing. I knew that, but I forgot again.

It is a blessed thing to have wise friends who have the ability to help put things into proper perspective. I have all of the answers that I need within myself, but sometimes I forget to look for them or lose track of them, like car keys in the shuffle of everyday life.

There’s a whole lot of stuff that I know nothing about, but this much I do know—I know what I know. I know what’s important, what’s good for me, and what isn’t. I know what makes me happy and what doesn’t. I know that inner knowing is the key to happiness because it sifts the should’s and gotta do’s out of the mind and replaces guilt with loving kindness toward the self. I know the meaning of the expression, “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” We’re all mama’s. We all deserve to be happy. We all deserve to be the very best expressions of ourselves that we can possibly be.

Some people are fortunate to enter into the world with an inherent sense of happiness that comes naturally. Others have to engage in a struggle to overcome unfortunate circumstances, or to flail through layers of cloud cover before discovering that the treasures of happiness and creativity dwell within the confines of our own souls.

Sometimes creativity gets stuck somewhere within, like that last stubborn squeeze of toothpaste that refuses to exit the tube. It gets stranded somewhere within the ego that stands strong and wants to show the soul who’s the boss. Creativity on demand, forced creativity doesn’t usually work out well. Free flowing creativity of the soul marches to its own drummer and spills out in spite of itself in ideas that flow onto paper, and brushes that take on a life of their own and splash color on a canvas as the creator marvels in wonder as miraculous results appear. Creativity in action is truly inspired, a joy to behold and experience.

The expression of creativity brings a joy that nothing else can, a sense of achievement that outlasts and outmatches anything that the material realm has to offer. It’s why writers write, artists paint, and builders build. Creativity needs to be nurtured, coddled, loved into existence by a patient soul willing to let go and watch as it unfolds, willing to allow the will-to-do take the reins and be in charge. It requires inner knowing, inner listening, and faith in the process in order to become manifest.

Divine connection with the Self is the source of creativity that brings forth the sense of happiness that feeds the soul with joy. Sometimes creativity gushes forth in great bursts of energy; sometimes it is a mere drip, drip, drip that slowly reaches the brim of its container, then finally spills over its edges and becomes a gentle flood that cannot be denied. Whatever its size, shape, form, or timetable, it is a gift from Divine source, the Divine connection that lives within. It cannot be rushed or coerced or squeezed into existence; it is best if just simply allowed.

Note: The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

The Soul of Service

Hmm.…no blog yesterday. That’s twice in one week. What’s up with that? Am I slipping? Am I copping out on my commitment? Good question. I have no idea. It does give me pause to wonder, though.

Amidst my ponderings about commitment, I keep hearing the words, “Be true to yourself” in my head. What does that mean, exactly? Again, no idea. Sigh. It looks as if this is shaping up to be one of those all-questions, no-answers kind of a morning. Out with the journal. Start writing.

Twice this month there were five blog readers. Five! Is it worth spending whatever time it takes to crank out a blog every day if I am writing in a vacuum? Might it be that readership is waning as a reflection of my own questionable commitment? Is it time to alter my writing plan and downsize to every other day? Is my commitment actually in question? Or is it simply that I have lost sight of my vision, mission, purpose? If I crank up my enthusiasm and recommit to my writing plan, will readership increase? And by the way—who am I writing for, and just who is it that is making this commitment, anyway? Who decides?

I recently went to a small family celebration in honor of a newly-minted doctor of pharmacology, who just completed a grueling internship at a hospital. One of her friends, a nurse, wowed us with her party planning skills—cupcakes topped with red and white capsules, pills, band-aids, and all things medical; there were personalized face masks for all, and a glittery gold banner adorning the wall. It was obvious from the expression on her face that sharing her party planning skills brought great joy to others as well as herself.

She was a reminder that every one of us is born with some sort of special skill, gift, or talent, sometimes buried, sometimes obvious. We are not fully alive unless and until we discover it within ourselves and find a way to express it, not just for our own enjoyment, but for the joy of others as well. Whether it is expressed as a hobby, vocation, or avocation is irrelevant; what matters is that creativity be expressed. As we use our talents, they grow. If we ignore them, they will disappear.

Was it worth it to the nurse wannabe-party planner to spend her time and energy doing something to make someone else happy? Judging by the glow on her face, I would say so. Is it worth it for me to spend my time and energy doing something for five people or a hundred or just one, even if the just one is myself? If it makes only me happy, if it brings me joy, is it worth it? The sharing of a gift is a service to the soul of others, sometimes in ways that we may neither know nor understand. What matters is only our willingness to share it.

Well, so there you have it—the answer to my commitment question all tied up in a neat little package with a pretty bow and some icing band-aids and pills on top. I’m writing for myself as an expression of my own creativity. Is it worth it? Yes. Does it make me happy? Yes. Is being happy being true to myself? Yes. Ah. Good to know. The world won’t end if I miss a day here or there, so long as I keep the goal in sight, and my eye upon the donut and not upon the hole. See you tomorrow folks. Or maybe the day after . . .

Grace Under Pressure

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Writing yesterday’s blog was hard, like trying to pour caramel sauce over ice cream in an igloo. Today, I’m telling myself that it’s going to be easy. I’m going to just make up my mind that writing today will be a breeze, ideas will flow, words will pour forth and fill up the blank space of my computer screen like gently nuked caramel sauce on a warm summer’s day. Well, that’s what I’m telling myself. Whether it works or not is another story. I’ll just have to wait to see how long it takes me to get to the finish line today. It will be a test of how well telling myself what to do works. I can be pretty bossy sometimes, so maybe there’s hope.

Today has to be easy, because this morning I suddenly realized that in addition to writing Voices, the monthly newsletter that I publish monthly for my condo building is due tomorrow, and somewhere in between that, there’s a lengthy board meeting. Well, now there you go—a cause for panic if ever there was one. But no. I’m not giving in to panic. I’m going for grace under pressure.

I’m not sure yet what the theme of the day is, but it might be procrastination, or faith, or doing my best work under pressure, or perfection, or check all of the above. I’m experienced in all. I guess it’s a little like making my way through life—I’m not always sure where I’m going, but it’s a pretty darned good bet that if I have a set destination, I’ll get there eventually. Oh, there may be a few futile side trips along the way, but there is value in everything, even the wrong turns.

One thing I’ve learned along the way is that if something is hard, I might be headed in the wrong direction. If I set my feet upon a path that is not in my best interest and find obstacles at every turn, it may be a warning that I’m headed for disaster. I once observed as a friend launched into a dogged effort to fight the obstacles that were thrown in her way in her attempt to facilitate the purchase of a business for her husband. Her struggle was rewarded with a resounding failure. Had it been right, the road would have been smooth. We need to listen to the whispers.

Wow! I told myself it would be easy and apparently, I listened. I’ve passed the finish line with hours to spare, the hair on my head is still intact, and there is still coffee left in my mug. Maybe I’ve turned a corner—I hope so. Maybe it’s because I exchanged hard for easy, or because my new mission of spirit guide communication is working, even after only two days of practice. Whatever the reason, however it happened, I am truly grateful. May it be a harbinger of things yet to come. Grace under pressure. I’ll take all I can get. Grace, not pressure, thank you very much.

Blinded by the Light

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Yesterday was renewed-vision day. The windows were cleaned and I got new glasses—all within the space of four hours. Hot dog—I can see clearly again. Well, at least I think I can. I guess it all depends on how you look at it.

This morning I sat around waiting for inspiration to strike and was rewarded with zip. So I shook up the daily routine and went out for a walk. Usually it’s write first, walk second but apparently, today is shaping up to be a bass ackwards sort of day. So here I sit in thumb-twiddle mode wondering what to talk about today. It could be a very long morning.

While simultaneously thumb twiddling and awaiting inspiration, it occurs to me that maybe the well has run dry. Am I washed up, finished, kaput? Has my daily blog muse walked off the job and left me to my own questionable resources? Now there’s an unsettling thought. That would be tantamount to someone making a decision that affects me without checking in with me first, and I hate it when that happens.

Then it dawns on me that what I think is what I get. If I think the well has run dry, then the well has run dry. It’s the purest, simplest form of creating my own reality. If I add the belief factor in with the thought process, I’m doubled doomed. I’ve shot myself in the foot and that’s the end of my daily blog. The muse has run for her life and I’m left to my own devices.

If, on the other hand, I manage to catch myself red-handed in the act of believing the veracity of a negative thought that I made up in my head, I can nip it in the bud, turn it around, and exchange it for a new thought that uplifts, expands, and supports the idea that the well will never run dry. Aha. I’m back in the blog business.

It also dawns on me that my thoughts are my entire world, but in the overall scheme of the universe, when compared to the whole, my mind and I seem no greater than a feather on the wings of a sparrow.

Yet, if a single thought from one person has a life altering effect upon that person’s life, just imagine the effect that the thoughts of masses of people might have upon the entire universe. Imagine the magnificent creations that would become manifest. Imagine the wonderful new world that we can make up in our minds, just by envisioning them. Imagine joining the power of just one thought with the masses to create an entire new universe.

It’s such a simple concept, but one that requires vigilance and mindfulness to put into action. It’s worth whatever effort it takes—for you, for me, for the world, for the future.

Happy dreaming up and creating a brilliant new reality, everyone!

Creativity and Cosmic Humor

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Every so often when I’m feeling bereft of creativity, I confess that I resort to paging through old computer files in search of ideas, inspiration, or anything else that will light the spark of creativity. Today is such a day. My search has yielded a plethora of half written fragments of aha’s that seemed intelligible for at least a one brief moment in time, but were left hanging mid-air awaiting completion. There they sit, undone. I know the feeling.

This morning I found something that I considered “lifting” from myself for today’s blog, but since my preferred choice refers to a winter and a dog both recently passed, I would need to fess up to my self-plagiarism and explain myself. Maybe I’ll do that tomorrow, since I’ve already confessed today.

But here’s a funny thing—in my search, I came upon a story about my six-year old behavior. Surprise, surprise—right in the middle of a sentence of intense revelation, there is a recipe for linguine. Now I ask you—how in the world did linguine insert itself in the middle of my childhood? I have no idea, but it looks like an easy and idiot-proof recipe and I think it might be dinner.

Hold on—maybe this is all only a bit of cosmic humor to remind me about how clever and creative God is. Is it a coincidence that the linguine recipe is stuck in the middle of some writing about my former smoking habit? Is it coincidence that the linguine component reminds me of a forgotten addiction that drove me to Overeater’s Anonymous? Is it a coincidence that I came upon this bit of cosmic humor as I was in search of some creativity? Is it yet another reminder that God always provides?

Yesterday I was so bored that I took myself out for an invigorating adventure to McDonalds for a crispy buttermilk chicken sandwich to eat in the car, then to a trip to Sam’s to fill up with gas. It’s no wonder I need to rummage around in old files in hopes of finding a spark of inspiration. I went outside in search of myself, but I wasn’t there. Apparently, I need to go inside more.

God never disappoints. Need inspiration? Go inside. Need help? Go inside. Need joy? Go inside. Need dinner? Try linguine. I have everything I need except maybe the shrimp. Hmm. That might call for another exciting trip out for groceries. Then I’ll return home, eat linguine, and go right back inside where I can see life through the window of my Soul.

Where’s the Joy?

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Blog stuck. I hate it when that happens. Here I sit in ye olde Lazygirl sucking my thumb and waiting for inspiration to strike and—nothing. Hello? Is anybody in there?

In desperation, I flip to a random page in my journal for distraction. The page flip takes me to an entry that reminds me of the importance of meditation and journaling. Both are the source of creativity, focus, and ideas that may be useful in writing; both are a rich source of wisdom that offer answers to some of life’s thorny questions. Questions of the soul arise, questions that draw my attention within to seek the source of joy. Where does it come from? Why does it go missing? How can I retrieve it?

My mind wanders off again into the world of writing. Why do I do it? Would I publish a blog or a book if no one ever read them? If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one to hear, does it make a sound?

Creativity in any form comes packaged with a powerful nudge of the soul to seek outward expression. To deny the urge of creativity is to live life at half-mast. To experience the fullness of life is to allow talent and gifts to flow forth as joyful expressions of the soul.

Aha. That’s why I write! When I deny the inner urge of creativity to express itself, I deny joy. When I write for the right reasons, joy becomes the reward. The desire for accolades and validation pales in comparison to the sense of soul satisfaction that comes with the completion of a creative endeavor.

Why do I write? Because I have to. Who am I writing for? Myself. Well, whew. I’m glad that we got that settled.

In closing, it dawns on me that I need not limit my creative ability to just writing a book or a blog, but I can also use it to nurture the seeds of a better world by writing a new story of the future. I can imagine and dream the creation of a new and improved world that awaits our arrival. We all can help write the future. We need only imagine. It doesn’t get more joyful than that.

Write on!