The Journey Inward

As a child, every day involved creativity,
Opportunities to design, invent, innovate,
Ways to amuse, delight and entertain myself,
Finding inspiration all around me.

Some found my interests and activities weird,
Others offered "helpful" advice,
And between the discouragement and the conformity demands of middle school,
The space for creativity began to constrict.

As a teen, comparison robbed me of creativity,
Always thinking someone else could do it better,
Beginning to believe I had no talents,
Removing time for creativity from my days.

My mother was creative, but would never have said so,
"I'm just following patterns," she would say,
As she sewed us matching dresses,
Or attached a thousand tiny sequins onto Christmas stockings.

Creativity began to feel like a luxury,
Self indulgent and unproductive,
Not a good use of time at all,
(You'd think my reaction would have signaled some exploration).

Now I strive to make space for creativity,
Inviting it into my life,
Using it to make meaning, express myself, 
And resist the urge to compare my contributions to others'.

Beauty and inspiration surround me,
And when I slow down and take note,
I can let them grab hold and transform me,
So that I am not the same person I was just moments before.

This poem was inspired by Brene Brown's chapter, "Cultivating Creativity:  Letting Go of Comparison," from the book, The Gifts of Imperfection

Photo:  Silly geese.  7.14.24.  Created by GHC.  Photo by LA.