At a dinner party, a woman said she’d heard that I was writer. Before I could answer, her husband laughed and said, ‘She wishes.’ Amazing, the number of scenarios, mostly illegal, that careen through your head in a situation like this.
The man in question works for the NHS but he loves his garden. I doubt that anyone says he wishes he were a real gardener. Yet, if you direct youth theatre, you’re a youth worker. If you lead a choir for the elderly, you’re a social worker. If you write only for yourself, you’re deluded. You think you have talent? How embarrassing.
Today when we took the Big Nosed dog for a walk, the post van was parked along the street, radio playing and the postie himself dancing as he went house to house. Gotta love that Northern Soul, he said, and danced past us. Fantastic!
Humans thirst for creativity, and we do it at will. Dance, sing, crack jokes, draw pictures in the snow. Creation both expresses and connects us. In my trauma work, tapping the client’s creativity ignites the sense of a healed self in a way that seems nearly magical. And anyone who’s done community theatre or sung in a choir has felt that connected-ness that comes from doing something wonderfully creative together.
The arts are powerful. So tap into that power and stage a revolution inside yourself. Find the creative you and dust her off. Cook a meal. Write a blog. Recite your poem on open mic night. Dance in the street. If anybody laugh at you, remember that YOU ARE ENOUGH.
I believe you can do it, so get cracking. Let me know how you get on.