When we make time to explore our creative longings, we feel more inspired. This week I walked on the beach for hours, searching for treasures that the sea had washed up. I walked slowly and allowed myself to be drawn to whatever I felt drawn to. I found an armful of driftwood and coral, along with several small and unusual scallop shells with pink tones.
As the afternoon sun grew lower in the sky and the light grew warmer, I turned back and began retracing my steps. I saw a number of things on the way back that I hadn’t seen on the first passing—more driftwood pieces, a few baby’s ears.
I dreamed and imagined collages that I could make with some of these sacred objects that I had found. I’ve wanted to do collage for years but haven’t made the time. I decided to devote my afternoon to collecting objects for collage, allow myself to imagine, and see what happened. I felt excited as several new ideas came to me about how I could create digital art collage, something that I hadn’t previously considered. Once I let myself explore that option, I felt flooded with ideas, to a certain point, and past that point, I couldn’t see a way to carry out my vision.
Beginning something new creatively is a vulnerable undertaking toward realizing our creative longings. I’m starting with a few exciting ideas, and I’m completely uncertain whether I have the skills to execute the ideas. If I find that I’m not skilled, I’m not sure that, given all of my other current projects, I’ll have the time or energy to devote to developing the skills right now. But I know that it’s something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time, and I know that collecting these objects and letting my creative mind wander and generate ideas makes me feel really good. I decide to continue, knowing that even if I can’t carry out my vision, I’ve spent three amazing hours walking on a beautiful beach, I’ve experienced moments of awe and inspiration, the experience will inspire more creative action, and these beautiful objects will decorate my home and continue to inspire me in other ways.
As I approached my starting and ending point, I found a tiny starfish that had just washed up and quickly picked it up before the surf washed it back out. I picked it up and placed it in my hand, sensing in one moment its softness and the next moment its hardness. I placed it to my nose and noticed that although it was still moving slightly, it already smelled of death. I held it in the palm of my hand as it died. As I looked up, I saw in the distance a gathering of people dressed in black for a memorial service. I kept walking. A few steps later, I found a sea urchin to add to my collection, and a few steps after that, a small moonsnail shell.
As I approached the end of my walk, where a sea wall made walking further impossible, I found a small, three inch long white lightening whelk shell. I found countless pieces of broken channeled whelk shells with erotic curves and silky smooth insides. They, too, inspire and enliven something in me that I can’t quite name.
It was a perfect afternoon of tending to my creative longings. I found many objects that I love to add to my collection of sacred objects from the sea. Again, I imagined ways to create collage. My heart and soul long to make meaning from these gifts from the sea and to make something beautiful to honor them. On the way home, I bought supplies to make the paper background for collage.
Take yourself on a creative date this week and allow space for your creative longings to emerge. What do you hear? For what are your heart and soul longing? How can you give creative expression to that this week? Try exploring some of these questions in your mindful journaling practice and see what emerges?