To jumpstart my blog & find my voice, I enrolled in WordPress Blogging University’s 20 Day “Writing: Finding Everyday Inspiration” course. Join me in my journey to find extraordinary in the everyday ordinary.
WordPress University Day 7 asked me to draw inspiration from social media, and provided five pre-selected tweets to think about. This is the one I selected, and what came of it.
If I’ve learned anything during quarantine, it’s that creativity doesn’t happen on command.
If I’ve learned anything about creativity, it’s that it requires a balance of space and spontaneity.
If I’ve learned anything about procrastination, it’s that it is a sign pointing to one of two things:
- You’re avoiding a vulnerable feeling within yourself.
- You’re avoiding an activity that you actually resent doing.
- Am I avoiding taking out the recycling? Yes! I genuinely dislike this activity.
- Am I avoiding writing this blog post? Yes? But I do enjoy the practice of writing.. what does this mean?
I don’t think that procrastination kills creativity, but I wouldn’t go as far as saying it is essential to it.
Today, I looked out my window and pretended that Seattle was a new city. I got excited to explore the park across the street, I marveled at all the people walking their dogs in this neighborhood, and wondered if there were any bars nearby where I could sink my teeth into some local flavor.
Sometimes, I’ll squint my eyes and blur my vision just enough to instantly transform my location. By use of this technique, Green Lake could almost be Audubon Park in New Orleans, and Alki Beach passes for what I’d imagine most Southern California waterfronts to be. Add in layers of scent, the direction of the wind, the humidity or the sun on my face and I could be anywhere: Malad West, Mumbai, Ubud, Bali, Waterford, Ireland.
I looked out my window today and tried to pretended that Seattle was a new city to me, but I couldn’t do it. The same construction worker I see everyday was flagging cars and passersby. The sky transitioned from dark to light grey. A skateboarder stopped himself from flying over a temporary divet in the street.
I told myself that I’d wake up early, seize the day and WRITE.
I love writing. I love the way it feels to dissect, to process my thoughts, pen to paper, finger to keyboard.
Instead, I overanalyzed all the different reasons why I could have woken up with hives all over my arms. The angry little welts had all dissipated by lunchtime, where they served as a reminder: not everything goes according to plan.
I miss being out in the world. I miss the feeling of wonder I experience in new spaces. I miss finding inspiration & myself when I’m forced outside of my normal headspace. I miss the spontaneity of adventures than unfold unplanned. I miss it so much that my heart hurts.
I’ve been avoiding this blog post because I’m avoiding my grief, my tenderness. I’m grieving a loss of the world as we knew it. I’m grieving the loss of things taken for granted: music festivals, homestays, baby showers, fireworks, parades, museums, open air markets. The feeling of spontaneous belonging when you find home away from home.
In this new world, where our days are routine and we are confined to our homes, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to find the space and spontaneity needed in order to feel truly creative again. Will I ever be able to reach my potential if I’m cut off from what I’m inspired by?
For now, I’m waiting for spontaneity to strike, one blog at a time. I’m squinting my eyes and making space wherever the sun kisses my face.