Living an Artful Life: Creativity as a Means to Heal

Normally I save the serious posts for my personal blog, but I have been meditating on the subject of creativity and how it can assist in healing.

I have said before that I feel that the home and our location are intimately connected to our sense of serenity, purpose, and even identity.  That is not to say, that from time to time we don't find ourselves blocked, stuck, and at a cross purposes with our soul path.

In fact, it is in precisely those times that I think we should turn to art: and when I say "art" I mean the term in the most inclusive, all encompassing sense.  I think living an artful life happens every day.  It happens while you are sipping your coffee, and really savoring that moment.  It happens in the tub when you reach for that artisanal goat soap from your local farmer's market.  It happens while you are cooking dinner, or even while staring out the window with sudsy hands over a sink full of dishes.  Life is art.

But life is also pain.  And loss.  And disappointment.  And acts of creativity can help center you: it can literally return you to you.  I feel that the artist within is a direct connection to the inner child.  Who were you when you were eight?  What did you believe?  Who did you love? Who did you want to be?

I think that too many people worry about having "talent."  I think that is an unnecessary worry.  Creating isn't about being the best at anything.  Being a maker (living as a maker) is so much more accessible than we think it is, and that can heal.  When you purchase something off of etsy, you are a maker and a supporter of makers.  When you pick up those sharpies and do some zen tangle, you are "making" and healing your soul.  When you sit down with your child and jointly put some Crayola to coloring book page, you are doing something amazing.  This is not about being Picasso.  This is not about obtaining an Art History degree, maintaining a blog with the most followers, or branding yourself in such a way that you make a lot of money.  None of those things are negative in any way, if that is your particular journey, but those goals aren't the "point." 

Creativity is a spiritual fulfillment, and unlike other means of spirituality, it's not exclusionary or controversial or dogmatic.  It can be those things, but art is not inherently any of those things.  Art is life.  And the process of making art can heal the broken and direct the lost.

Live Free or Die

I have a change of plans to relate to y'all.  Yes folks, I just deliberately typed "y'all."  Which is rather fitting considering that I might yet end up a total country bumpkin.

It was  no secret that I wanted to move.  I've been talking about that forever, and last you all knew I had planned to end up some where in the greater Boston area.  Well, that won't be happening.  It's because of money.  I had to buy the car.  The stepfather situation has changed the outlook of my financial situation.  There is absolutely no way that I can afford any rents in that area.  So, I needed to embrace my other plan that is been in the back of my head for a very long time.

It's New Hampshire.  I have always loved that state.  Live free or die baby.  Live free or die. The  libertarian part of me cries out in excitement.

The lakes region is pretty cheap.  Like really cheap.  Like 650 to 700 a month including heat and hot water cheap.  With that kind of affordable housing, I can really plan a halfway decent future while still keeping this job that I love.  Especially when you factor in zero state income tax and no sales tax.  Hellz yeah.   Many of the towns are small and economically depressed though.  So, in short, not a whole heck of a lot different than my own town as pointed out by Josh.  I asked him what he thought of one particular place and he said, "Picture your hometown with an additional 15 years of recession under its belt."   I laughed out loud.  So, I get it: run down mill towns with aging Victorians and peeling paint.  Message received.  But I would be free.  And frankly, the above description is exactly what I know and love already right here, but minus the ghosts of my past and within a closer proximity to the ocean, the mountains, swimming, etc. 

Tilton NH

I want to be the sort of person that makes strawberry jam and cans it.  Yeah, I said it.  I might even want a gingham tablecloth or something.  I want to have a fridge full of organic food and spend my evenings crocheting in the country and my weekends swimming or ice skating on a lake.  I want to plop all my paints down on the ground and take in the landscape.  I want to live in the land of maple sugaring. Now that I've learned to make bread, I want to never buy store bought again. That's what I want.  I think I finally know what peace looks like. 

But we all know that I take me with me wherever I go.  So, it won't be a magical solution but it may be an opportunity to put something together that is truly mine.  To make a choice, rather than have a choice made for me.

As usual the hardest part is patience.  I want to go yesterday.  And for once, I can afford to do this now instead of later. But I won't leave here until the remaining occupants find a way to pay the rent without me, or until we reach the end of our lease this next July 1st.  Whichever comes first.  I thought of every way I possibly could to live on my own in CT or Mass and I realize that being a slave to the rent being due would kill me eventually.  That kind of stress takes its toll.  I shouldn't have to pay a thousand a month plus utilities for some closet sized one bedroom.  That shit just isn't cool.  So, bring on the country. 

Pumpkins 2012

Part of learning to live an artful life involves tapping into a part of me, that for a short time, died.  Little things that used to bring me joy, seemed fruitless for awhile.  I lost a part of myself that I was afraid I would never get back.  But it is coming back.  Slowly, and bit by bit.

Tradition is important to me, as is family.  And I've always felt connected to the rituals of my childhood that sustained me even through rough times.  Holidays were perfect examples.  We were big into tradition: tree decorating, egg dying, and of course, pumpkin carving.

I take my pumpkin carving seriously.  Okay fine, too seriously.  I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist.  (Who me?  Never, ever.)  I am working on simplicity.  I'm getting there.  But I felt a tremendous amount of joy because for the first time, in maybe, (11 years????) all three of my sisters were in a room carving a pumpkin.  We had a few additions to our ritual.  There was an adorable baby watching in awe, and an "Uncle" Dave carving a pumpkin with Shannon.  But there was joy right along with the change.  And yes, I did think of him.  Shannon and I talked about a few of the pumpkin that Jaime had "created" over the years as he used to get into this family tradition right along beside me.  But it was okay.  I was okay.  The pictures of the final product are courtesy of my brother in law.  He is a much better photographer than I.