Creative living doesn’t have to always look like the same story-thread throughout every season of our life.
When I was a kid, I did lots of creative things with my time like taking photographs with my Canon film camera that I got for my 13th birthday, taking jazz ballet dance classes and choosing art class at school.
When I got older, creative living took the form of a drama degree, writing plays and performing in shows.
As a young mum, I lived out my creative passions by homeschooling and getting crafty alongside my kids. We painted, drew and drank in rich stories together. We worshipped the Creator through song and scripture. We made playdough in all the colours of the rainbow. We did lino printing, lego building, puppet making, leaf rubbings, salt dough impressions and even painted with balloons.
As the kids got older, I started scrapbooking and designed my own lines of products that were sold in stores. I wrote for magazines and taught workshops.
When it was time for that season to end, I’d get the creative juices flowing by baking recipes, blogging and listening to music.
Creative living morphed into window dressing our little #findsonfitzroy vintage and retro store for a couple of years or holding macrame and altered book workshops. When it was time to let that go, I wholeheartedly embraced the creativity of writing and performing music, especially my own. I recorded and released my #walkingcontradictionep last year during a period of wellness.
I’m in a different season again.
In this season of fatigue, pain and unpredictability, it would be easy to think that this is a season of creative drought but it’s not.
It’s a time to do little but wonderful and meaningful creative things. I read. I listen to podcasts. I take photos on my iphone. I enjoy looking at the flowers people like my daughter bring me in my Frida vase. I write. I create printables for my homeschooling page. I watch the light catch the old apothecary bottles I have lined up in my hallway as the afternoon sun streams in and casts rainbows and shadows.
My creativity comes out in the form of this wall next to my bed. It reminds me of love and connection and brings me joy whenever I look at it. It reminds me of the creativity that many of my loved ones possess, of places travelled to vicariously through others and of experiences lived and memories made.
It’s really just another creative outlet (albeit it small) because intentional actions matter. May your days be filled with intentional moments that fill you up, even if they feel teeny tiny in the story-thread seasons of your life.