Category: Creativity

Well the time has come where my two year old has decided going to bed is the worst idea in the world.

Until three days ago, our routine was slick and I could get him to sleep in less than five minutes.

Then something changed.

His obsession with fire trucks maybe, his awareness of the world around him grew or a growth spurt…

Something changed, I know not what…and oh have we battled.

Last weekend in church the message was so great, it was all about living below our stress lines in life and what fills and drains us.

I walked into this week not feeling stressed at all and will walk out of it feeling like I am redlining.

Tonight after a two hour battle to get him to stay in bed I felt like a complete failure as a parent.

Yesterday I didn’t even want to write I was so deflated.

Then a few minutes ago, ready to give up my writing, (who can write when all you feel like doing is crying) I remembered my list.

What drains you?

What fills you?

Last Sunday after the message I wrote a list with my husband of what drains us and what fills us.

I started to recall those things on my list.

Flowers; a friend bought me flowers yesterday and my house has little pots of flowers all around.

Coffee and a magazine; Charl (my husband) bought me a magazine this week on his way home from work.

Time alone; charl is on nightshift and although it kinda sucks, I am in fact revelling in silence right now.

Writing; forcing myself right now and suddenly I am breathing deeper.

Worship music; check, tunes that bring life into my moments.

And my list went on.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

My perspective of Mothers of toddlers has drastically changed.

Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can’t change and to change that which I can.

Thanks for the reminder

Signing off, I have a movie to watch.

Speak tomorrow

One of my favourite authors Maya Angelou, died this week after living a large life of communication, advocacy and overcoming insurmountable odds.

Born in St. Louis, Missouri she lived a life battling racism, abuse and hostility. Post the trauma of being raped by her mothers boyfriend she stopped speaking for six years.

Coming from a past full of oppression, who would have predicted this young mute girl would end up penning 30 books throughout her life, including powerful poetry and become a famous playwright.

I believe it just proves, the power of the human spirit to overcome any circumstance and love beyond our past.

“She was a warrior for equality, tolerance and peace. The family is extremely appreciative of the time we had with her and we know that she is looking down upon us with love,” her family said.

On Friday after news of her death, I called my local library and borrowed her first autobiography ‘I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings.’

I am currently immersed in the early years of her life as I read this riveting book.

One of my favourite quotes of hers is this;

I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.” I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
Maya Angelou

Rest in Peace Maya.

You inspired hundreds of thousands.

You did good.

Today’s post on Green Couture in the series Winter Hues went live today. The series has been about interior design and creativity.

My post today is titled Find your unique and here is part of my article;

‘I live in a beach flat, that was built in 1972. We live ten paces from the ocean and our house is built completely underground.

There is a lot of unique in our little patch of Australia, but my favourite part of our shack are the elements that make memories of the life we have lived within it.

Our unique.

Simple little elements that we highlight to bring character subtly.’

To continue reading, join me over on Kate’s blog.

Also standby, I have been working on some amazing guest writers for the month of August as well, when my little miss V arrives.

Enjoy finding your unique!

Speak tomorrow

I am speaking at a MOPS group tomorrow about creativity.

As I prepare my message I am so aware of how many people do not think they are creative because of fear and intimidation about what others will say about their pursuits.

Can you remember the first time you realised, that maybe you weren’t that good at something creative?

Humanity, our brokenness, comparison, competition…

Negative words spoken over our lives that are not true…

Our creativity is often the first part of our lives, that is affected when are worried about what other people think.

Very quickly, we start to question and doubt our abilities.

As a child we are transformed from these young girls, who dance freely around the kitchen whenever music is played, to women who are uncomfortable that we may look silly or childish or fat.

As a young child, we play up to the camera, wanting someone, anyone to take our photo, we smile, we play, we react to the camera and then one day we become shy and worry about whether I am good looking enough, what I am wearing is okay, what others will think of my outfit.

As young children we cook with delight, making the most terrible breakfasts for our mums in bed, with cold toast and burnt coffee, but we are so proud, as we grow older we become afraid of inviting guests over for dinner, because my food isn’t up to ‘masterchef standard.’

We draw, scribble, outside of the lines as a toddler and preschooler and then we hear negative word, one after another at school that we cant paint the sky purple, that girls must like butterflies and boys trucks and our creativity is year after year squashed into a place of perfection.

We are terrified at looking at a blank canvas, because what if I produce something that is not good enough and someone laughs at me.

Our creativity, goes from being so satisfying to a terrifying land of imperfection and drivenness to be amazing and over the top.

In the midst of our lives as women, the busier we get, the more we neglect the simple things, the more we neglect the languages of our heart (creative stuff) to the too hard basket. Whether we have a cupboard full of material offcuts, a big box of wool that we used to delight in, cookbook upon cookbook that we ignore, a plan for the garden that we just never get too, a dream to take photos, a niggle in our heart to write…

Remember what it was like to be a young child who was free and able to express themselves without judgement and fear?

How can you recapture those moments?

How can you create again without worrying what others may think?

How can you confront those feelings of lack?

In the beginning God created and his initial response was…

It is good.

Can we also do this again, finding satisfaction in our uniqueness rather than comparing ourselves to others perfection?