It takes alot to be creative. To think playfully. To remind yourself that life is not just laundry and work and schedules and blah.
I reached a wall last week. A virtual wall of complete craziness. I sobbed and felt entirely untamed. I had no idea what I really needed or was hoping to get from my wailing. I was stuck. Stuck in my routine. I was stuck waking and making breakfast which is either eggs and toast or oatmeal or yogurt or something else rather time consuming. Then trying to keep the boys entertained until Kai’s naptime. During that time there is bouncing off the couch and screeching down the hall and the wiping of butts and the unorganized chaos of cleaning and putting dishes away and I try to at least put on background music to make it resemble something civilized.
Kai naps, Caleb plays, I sigh deeply and sit on Pinterest or Facebook (yeah, I went back to it….) and then we begin our evening routine. The boys go to bed, I do yoga, drink wine, watch a show and knit.
Even the parts I like of that routine were beginning to feel mundane and forced. Yoga didn’t feel rejuvenating or invigorating. It felt like work. Cooking felt like a chore. Making up games to play with the boys made me feel like an under-appreciated P.E. teacher….
I’m just going to say what we all know is true. Life is difficult. Being a mom can be difficult. Being a stay at home full time mom, with few breaks from a partner (cause he is working his a$$ off to finish school while also working) keeping a house, animals and a bit of land, is difficult. Trying to maintain an attitude of cheerfulness and joy does not come naturally. Wallowing in self pity and frustration seem to be the easier road if you don’t set your mind to choosing differently.
Last Saturday I went bouldering, which is like rock climbing but it’s indoors, without ropes and you only go up about 12 feet. At this specific gym they also had a slack line (like a low tight rope you can walk across) and springy floors which brought out my inner 12 year old gymnast. I felt playful and energetic. Free. This was what I was lacking.
I came home with more spunk and fervor. ‘I think I’ll go snowshoeing NEXT weekend!’ I began to rub my hands together gleefully. Life is good if you pursue the goodness.
I decided to be more creative in the kitchen this week. What else can I put a poached egg on? Lets try making brownies with coconut flour!
Smoked salmon, kale, chard, sweet potatoes, salsa and raw sour cream
I finished up a knitting project a few weeks ago that was my hardest yarny endeavor yet. A sleep sack for a friends newest addition.
Fair Isle Sleep Sack, pattern by the Purl Bee
And then yesterday at the request of my 5 year old, we got out the oils and acrylics, brushes and canvas, set up my easel and decided to paint.
It’s odd how hard it can be to just start being creative. To set it up. Plan it out. Put on the appropriate music, get your cup of tea next to you and go for it.
I put oil to canvas and began to create. I needed to paint something inspiring. Something that moved me from my core. Something that embodied how I want to feel.
Strong.
Graceful.
Noble.
Rooted.
And this is what came pouring from my heart out through my brush and onto canvas.
Nothing has changed in my schedule. I am still home for all hours of the day, just me the boys, and our small menagerie of animals. We get out a few times a week. I clean and cook and fold and wash. But I think I got my groove back. We all need to create, to be artistic in whatever form that takes. We need to do something outside of the routine and the scheduled events. Purpose in creating. Knit, climb, color, dance, art, music, clay, and all those other mediums.
Create.
Many of my years have been spent wandering. In my mind, my soul, in location. A seed being tossed about by the wind, rolled down steep banks and washed down streams.
