A few brush strokes here a few there. Often these days, a blank canvas sits waiting. That's how my creativity seems to be going these days. My life is being artfully prepared, yet I feel as if I'm standing still. My canvas is waiting.
Why do I feel as if I must be doing something to enjoy the benefits of my creativity? Why do I always tend to think of creativity in terms of art work or painting?
I am learning that I can't always see creativity.
I need not orchestrate the Divine Artwork that is in process inside; it will come in it's time. I will paint or manifest what has been percolating inside, when it's ready to be seen. What has been going on within me, is Divine Artwork awaiting presentation.
Creativity is the unfolding of the possible in my life.
Sometimes the inevitable strokes are unexpected--not beautiful, bright, or coordinated, but scrambled, dark, and uncertain. I wonder where that mess came from. What place in me, held those pictures?
Yet somehow one day, it all fits together perfectly. My art of yesterday is suddenly understood. The groundwork has been laid. On the new canvas the new colors just seem to appear, and I instinctively know what comes next. I cannot hide my excitement. All those months of waiting, for this to be seen. I am brought to my knees in awe.
To trust in the process of the ebb and flow of life, of creativity inside and out, is something I struggle with. It all seems so comfortable and familiar when I am finally painting again and life is going smoothly, and it is so uncomfortable when I'm not. It is my goal to embrace all of it without judgment or expectation. It is all part of my creative life.
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