11/21/2024
Spirals of Creativity:
The unfolding of the question: Where did you go?
Creativity is not something that rings the doorbell until you loftily push yourself off the couch
It is faint whisper in the gulch of your intuition, then a shouting in the mind until it is softly landing in your heart, opening your eyes with so much light you can no longer shut out the vision
The accumulation of devotional acts to this path
dynamic shifts, panning out the gold nuggets of it all
embracing the enigmatic diversity of pleasures that come out solely from facing the inward exploration of self
Ideas emoting from all directions, to keep those fires stoked for the rest of Winter
As if I had asked for simplicity all these years only for it to reveal the endless spiraling gyres that begin to form into the patterns of my sight
Forging paths we no longer need to go back on
Inviting creativity to lead, but knowing there must be spaciousness for it to submerge itself deep within my bones, until I hear the faint whisper of its calling again
I open my eyes to see everything swimming beneath me, above me, then through me
Whisping through my hair
Moving air in a dormant space, drifting tornados of magical ideas
Grabbing what’s in front of me, pulling in as if tangible
Finally sweeping me up
Butterflies landing on the crescent of my collar bone,
My big eyes engulfing their tiny souls
Only to hear the accents of ancestors, reminding me, centering me
Suddenly being spun into a room full of nostalgic, transformative memories, diligently asking
Feeling the words, not quite thinking of them yet
Letting them form, solidify
Until they are shouted to my heart and grounded in my roots
Start again? Start again? Or start anew?
It’s familiarity enwrapping itself around me, meeting my mind, body, and spirit with cohesion, in remembrance of this devotional act of God
Creativity: It is never really gone.
