From an early age, I was certain of two things: 1) I loved horses with a passion and depth that, to this day, I still cannot fully articulate and 2) I wanted to be a writer. My love of horses was carefully nurtured and supported by many caring adults in my life, and I will never forget when a veterinary student came to talk to our sixth-grade class and, once made aware of my career aspirations, asked what I thought I might specialize in, the class responded with a resounding chorus of, “horses!” I never felt as though I had to hide or justify my love of horses. My love of writing on the other hand…
I cannot recall anyone explicitly telling me I could never have a lucrative career as a writer, but I do recall, very early on, thinking to myself, “I’m not allowed to want that,” and so I kept that dream very close to my heart. Looking back, I wish I had the courage to be more vocal about my desire to be a writer and that I had been more assertive in pursuing both my love of horses and my love of writing. Horses, I set aside for deeply personal reasons, although they have never not been a part of my life or my imagination. When it came to writing, however, I spent far too long waiting for permission.
Our culture treats creativity as something superfluous. Stereotypical portrayals of creative professionals as solitary, tortured souls who ignore their family, friends, and personal hygiene for their art don’t help to underscore what, I think, we all know, but maybe don’t say out loud: we are all inherently creative, many of us just think we’re not allowed to be or, somewhere along the way, we started to believe that we weren’t creative. Then there is the idea that creativity is something reserved for certain “creative” people and limited to a few pursuits. But, creativity is all around us and we each have different ways of expressing our creative natures.
This video, featuring Ethan Hawke, offers wonderful words of wisdom on how vital creativity is to our experiences as humans, the way it can open dialog, and can offer us a way to heal. I thought I needed permission to be creative because, as a child, I didn’t understand that creativity is an inextricable part of who we are as human beings and can be expressed in many ways. What I needed was permission from myself to embrace my creativity, a willingness to look foolish (and maybe have fun acting the fool), and the understanding that creativity is not something we can simply set aside. It is part of who we are and part of how we get to know ourselves and each other. But, I think Hawke expresses it a little more eloquently:
What do you need to do to give yourself permission to be creative?
How are you creative in ways that might not be considered creative by the usual standards? For example, my work as a mental health professional is as much art as it is techniques, theories, and knowledge.
If you’re in a place in life where you feel cut off from your preferred creative outlet, for whatever reason, what are other ways you might express yourself?
If you’re waiting for permission from someone, or something, outside of you, why is that sense of permission so important to you? Can it be permission enough to know that creativity is a part of being human and being alive?
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