I used to joke that I come from a long line of crazy women.
But in all honesty, as I became an adult, I realized that much of what I had heard about and witnessed in the women in my family was probably undiagnosed “mental illness.” (I have a problem with that term, and I’ve come to view what our society deems “mental illness” as a transition from one state of mind to another, an evolution of the psychic soul. A form of magic.)
After I had my own family, I began to relate to the women of my past more and more, and I had another realization. I come from a long line of highly intuitive and creative women. And I strongly believe that one contributing factor to their “instability” was that they were swallowed up in the domestic sphere, caring for others, putting themselves last. Day in and day out. I believe that because they could not create – could not devote themselves to their creative compulsions – they imploded.
I vowed that I would not go down that road. I made a conscious decision to fully embrace the fact that I am a creative soul. I knew that to not honor my passion to tell stories and touch people and create positive change in the world would be a loss. I knew that every day of my life, if I did not honor the creator who lives inside me, I would experience a kind of grief. And I knew that this grief would shape my life in deeply significant ways.
Choosing this path to live a creative life has not been an easy one, though. I’ve been met with resistance many times since making the decision. Sometimes the resistance has come from the people I’ve been closest to. Sometimes it has come from virtual strangers. And sometimes, from myself.
I’m convinced, beyond on any doubt, though, that not honoring our creativity, not pursuing our calling and looking the xother way is one of the most self-destructive actions we can take. Because non-action is an action. Not acting on that urge to create is an action to maintain the status quo one more day. It’s an action to douse the fire within. It’s an action to continue to wear a mask and sacrifice our real selves.
This was my main motivation in making FOUND OBJECTS. I wanted to tell a story about a courageous woman who could not ignore her desire to create. A woman who had an inner creative voice so loud it could not be stifled.
When did you make the decision to honor your creative self?