Good Morning, Loves,
After my last post, I was thinking about how to encourage you all. And then I thought what better way than to share my journey of recovering my own creative heart? This was a doozy and I hope will inspire you all to work through the garbage that comes up and remember who you are…
I am a songwriter, but I became a mother almost twelve years ago. After the initial burst of manic lullaby-churning-out, I lost touch with my writing in the day-to-day grind of survival mode. I was completely smitten with my little boy, who is of course my finest creation. But I had lost my artist self along the way. Suddenly I found myself working menial jobs to pay the bills and coming home exhausted to three hour naps, bad cheap food and weight gain depression.
I had no idea how much I was dying.
I remember before I had my son I imagined I’d be the coolest mom ever! I had this amazingly creative bohemian lifestyle that would be a wonderland for any child. I was not prepared for the soul shredding reality of losing all my alone time and never getting a break…of paying RENT after a life of house sitting and couch surfing. I got really adept at pouring out of an empty cup. Although I never resented my child, I often wished for a fairy godmother who would sweep in and offer to give me a week’s vacation in an empty room with a piano.
It’s been a journey getting my heart back.
The journey involved meeting an emotionally unavailable man eleven years into motherhood who for some reason resonated with me in a way that opened my heart for the first time since I was seventeen…Doing this frustrating dance of yes but no but yes. Spending nearly a year in constant emotional turmoil. Being alternately adored and ignored. Intermittent woundings, each of which felt like contractions in childbirth and ended up delivering the album WARRIOR*POET*BRIDE..
The initial shock and pain of rejection when said fella bailed brought ears, prayers and tantrums to God. Then, in a sunrise of sudden clarity, a sort of defibrillator for my artist heart… I pulled out my old recordings and sat in my kitchen being amazed at the level of brilliance they contained…
I might never be married. I may never experience the transcendent bliss of melting into the arms of a man who knows and loves ALL of me. But, by GOD, I can WRITE MUSIC and I can do it BEAUTIFULLY.
So I had this thought: “Why continue to chase a ‘normal’ life? Why force my heart to settle for less than I am capable of becoming?”
As I listened to the music that had been born of the jagged edges in my heart, I knew. My mentor Austin Biel of catharsisworship.com/ likes to say, “I am a creator. I was created to create.” I write worship music. I write love songs. I write poems and stories and prose and music. Not everyone can do that, but I can. And maybe, just maybe, that’s WHY I’m on the planet. To write, to sing, to dance, to share JOY in the way that only I can share.
If I am forced to sit at a desk, I will stare at the clock and eventually snap like a twig. But if I’m forced to sit at a piano, I will completely lose track of time and midwife into being worlds of sound and words that move people to tears.
Maybe the things that sing to our hearts sing for a reason. Maybe we are SUPPOSED to do what brings us greatest JOY. Maybe we are SUPPOSED to do what causes time to fade away and GOD to enter the room…
Maybe the things we love to do are the very things we are MEANT to do.
What do YOU love to do?