Creative Garden

I used to believe the natural cycle of creative flow had to be respected at any cost – sometimes there is nothing, sometimes there's everything.

And indeed, creativity will take you for a wild ride if you let it. If you don't tend to your creative garden.

Letting nature run its course, it leaves me either annoyed at myself for not creating anything, in excited, manic overwhelm – or in the crash that follows.

And the cycle keeps repeating.

Recently, I had to come to terms with the fact that if I wanted to be creative, healthy and still have a life, I had to set some parameters.

For the amount of hours I spent obsessing over my creativity, I wasn't getting much in return – and I'm sure it felt the same way about me.

The only option it had was to wait until the pressure in my brain was too big and then squeezing everything through the tiniest opening, breaking the dam and flooding everything.

So I decided to finally take charge and cultivate the creative juju I've been given and take stock.

What I found was jungle. Pretty, but unmanageable.

My creative garden had been sorely neglected.

The beds are crooked, some of them are overgrown and others barren, and the tools are rusty. The hose is definitely sputtering.

But the soil is still good, and the beds are in a beautiful spot where the sun gets to them just so.

Daily intentional creating is my hour in the earlies, weeding.

It is not the bloom or the harvest – it's the sowing of the seeds.