I remember someone saying that when you write, just wait for what bubbles up. I like that expression. I know that I possess something that will, invariably, bubble up.
However. At first it is painful to let it bubble up thinking I need to drag myself with luggage to the station from which it can take off. I usually feel I must effort to get there.
But—what if I just show up? Here I am, I can say. What have you to tell me today?
I am here, too, dear one. Uncluttered but for the raincloud of worldly ways that wobble and shake above your head distracting both of us from the tidy little path ahead, the one just there before us, waiting, as paths do so well.
You know there is no waiting in God, that has been said to you. But there is a waiting that is only the presence of Life—your own life, willing and able, supportive in stance, patient in unfoldment. It is this gentle waiting that fulfills your asking, your touch to keys, your pen to paper. You are a fertile meadow that keeps, unbetrayed, your belief in your self.
Do you remember the drawings you have made? Did you not think they were just nice little drawings, charming for being sweet but not having anything more meaningful to bring? You misjudged your drawings. You saw them as nothing. You saw them through the judgment you learned to believe in. You saw them with a sight that is the world’s and not your own. You do not think truthfully about what you create—or anything that comes out of you, for that matter. You approach creation with preconceived notions based on what you should do and been told to do by those not looking within. You make your work conform, just as you make yourself conform.
But the truth is this, your work has always told you the truth. It was never about artistic style and commercial acceptability and selling. It was always a conversation with the one you really are. You cannot escape who you are. (That idea bubbled up yesterday, too, and you posted it.) Embrace your creativity. Believe it. It is your true Being speaking. Feel its love for you and see it is your love for your self. That is the meaning in Creativity.
You love being alive and so you create. It just bubbles up … and over. It has to, for you are that ineffable joyful love.