Creative Expression
Losing Myself to Find Myself
When I lose myself and forget myself, I am the most myself. Moments of deep connection and acts of creation — making love, making art, bonding with loved ones and with nature — are where I forget myself most and feel the most free. In those spaces of timelessness, something wants to be birthed. To have its own life in the world.
Nature is a creative force — birds and their nests, spiders and their webs, foxes and their dens. My own need to create courses through me like a primal urge. It has always been a bodily demand.
I had nothing special to write this morning. Fragments of thought. But I knew I needed to get out of bed and commit to my practice even though the sweet warmth of my partner’s body, the sound of his breath as he slept, and his movement between the sheets were beckoning.
I threw on clothes, turned on the stove to heat up my Chaga tea, and sat at the computer. I let thoughts pour through my fingers without interruption. Nothing important or profound came through but twenty minutes later, something in me loosened, relaxed, and I became heavier in my seat. I began to induce flow.
Writing is a practice of release, excavation, and integration for me. Heeding the need to write means listening to my body. It is time and space to shed old selves, integrate prior experiences, and clear space. When I write regularly, beyond voices of social conditioning, self-doubt, and the noise of daily life, cobwebs clear and I can see — even for a moment — into my vast interior worlds. Without a regular creative release, I feel too full, with less and less space to receive.
Sometimes we have no choice but to paint or draw or write our insides out. The act of creativity is healing work that can loosen something inside us and allow us to see and hear parts of ourselves that have been available to the conscious mind. The creative process may ask us to wander in the woods, create personal space, and endure boredom or emotional discomfort before we break through. We may be compelled by whispers or muses from the realm of our dreams. Whatever the reason, compulsion, or process, creativity is vital energy. We are revealing ourselves, perhaps birthing something that wants to be read, heard, or seen. Sometimes, music, painting, and poetry can reach inside our bodies to see us and hold us when no one else can. The right words, sounds, or images can be an embrace.
Many of us find it difficult to engage in the creative process, blocked by the belief that we are not talented artists or that the time and space spent is a luxury. But creative expression is inherent in all animals and for me, time spent in the timelessness of creativity allows me to be more present and more productive. Still, I often have to remind myself that I can afford the time.
Creative expression can be uncomfortable and vulnerable as we reveal parts of ourselves that may be “outside the box” and do not match our sense of social identity. But the insights and wisdom that break through from deeper parts of ourselves can be profound; helping us to see and heal trauma, integrate prior experiences, and break free from emotional patterns or people that limit our lives.
Soon, I’ll be sharing a podcast that explores the intersection of healing and the creative process, something that has always fascinated me. I’ll be talking to friends — writers, visual artists, musicians, and others — who are compelled to create. We’ll explore their creative urge, how it helps them heal, and how and when they know their artistic expression is simply for them and when it is time to share their work and process with others.