Never Forget: Creativity Is For Everyone

It’s another glorious Monday, my friends!

One of the last ones of the year, in fact, if you can believe it! (I know I can’t.)

Truth be told, I had a different newsletter topic all cued up this week and then something pretty wonderful happened this morning that changed my course a bit. 

Elizabeth Gilbert -- author of my favorite book of 2015, Big Magic, a complete treasure of a writer, and soulful creative through and through -- used my #BetterLetteringCourse art journal piece from yesterday to accompany one of her beautiful, thoughtful Facebook letters this morning. (If you’re not following her page, I highly recommend it. She regularly shares article-length posts with gorgeous insights on life and creativity.)

Anyway, aside from geeking out over a personal idol of mine sharing my work, I was even more grateful to have my work accompanying a sentiment so near and dear to my heart: the idea that CREATIVITY IS FOR EVERYONE. 

Art is not about the product, but about the process. It is about what you learn, what you become, what you awaken to throughout the magical endeavor of creating. I believe that with all my heart and it is beautifully expressed in Liz’s words which I’ve copied for you here, highlighting my favorite passages (warning: it's long but so worth reading!): 

BIG MAGIC MONDAY

Dear Ones -

So grateful to the artist Caroline Kelso for making me this beautiful imagine, of a quote from Big Magic. (If you want to learn more about Caroline's lovely work, click here for further awesomeness: http://www.madevibrant.com/)

Caroline's design here is a a good illustration for something I've been wanting to talk about since I got home from book tour a few days ago.

I keep trying to think of the takeaway of these last few months on the road with BIG MAGIC, and what keeps coming to mind is this one challenging question that I faced back in September, from a reporter who asked me, "Aren't you afraid that your book is only going to encourage a lot of talentless people to fill the world with even more shitty art?"

WHOA!

I was staggered by his question. (To be very honest, I was torn between wanting to give him the finger, and just wanting to give him a big hug, and say: "Who hurt you, son? Who did this to you?")

Because the gulf between his world view on creativity and my world view on creativity felt like the Grand Freakin' Canyon — and I wasn't sure how to even begin bridging it.

I was struck by the anxiety and fear (and, frankly, insecurity) that lingered behind behind this man's query. I'm accustomed to people saying that they are afraid to explore their own creativity because they're afraid their work might not be good enough...but this was the first time I'd heard someone say that he was afraid OTHER people might explore their own creativity — because THEIR work might not be good enough.

That's a whole lot of fear about other people's lives, baby.

And because of his fear, this man wanted to make sure that the realm of creativity remain CLOSED — restricted only to the special, the talented, the precious, and the deserving.

But here's the problem: Who gets to decide who is deserving? Who gets to decide who is special? Who are the "wrong people" for creative living, and who are the right people? Who gets to play gatekeeper here?

After taking a few deep breaths, my answer to the reporter went something like this: "My concern is not that the world is filled with bad art — and I'm not even sure that the world IS filled with bad art, by the way. My concern is that the world is filled with millions of people who don't create ANYTHING AT ALL, because they have been told that creativity does not belong to them. My concern is that those people are being denied an essential ingredient of their humanity, and that they are therefore reduced to being mere producers and consumers, rather than being makers — and this cannot be good for anyone."

Because here is what I believe with all my heart (and after meeting so many of you over the past three months, and after hearing your own stories of creative discovery, I believe it more than ever)...I believe that:

Creativity is our shared human inheritance. Which means that everyone is invited, at all times. Absolutely everyone.

Creativity offers us ever new ways to unfold ourselves, to renew ourselves, to calm ourselves, to challenge ourselves, to explain ourselves to the world, to escape the world, and to alter our environment (both internal and external.)

The act of creativity is good for us — even if the final product is not "good" at all (whatever "good" even means in this context.)

Creativity is about the process, not the product. As my dad says about his Christmas tree farm, whenever anyone asks him how holiday sales are going: "The more important part for me is what happens the other eleven months of the year." And what DOES happen the other eleven months of the year? My dad gets to cultivate and create beautiful trees, which he loves doing so much that it always causes a revolution in his heart. My dad gets such rich personal satisfaction from the process of cultivating and creating trees that it keeps him happy all year long. What occurs in December (selling or not selling the trees) is totally secondary.

Creativity is worth exploring, then, even if you never make a fancy living from it, even if you never win big prizes for it, even if you never show your work to anyone. It's worth doing for what it does to YOU — not for how it lands on the world.

The most interesting part of creativity to me the stubbornness and love involved, not the level of talent (whatever "talent" even means, in this context.)

Creativity is about having the courage to try something new, even if you're not sure it will work.

Creativity is about becoming a scientist of your own experience, and returning to the laboratory of life again and again, to tinker around with different ideas.

Creativity is about becoming an active participant in your life — even if it's only in a small and modest way — rather than just being a passive witness, as life happens to you.

Creativity is about choosing curiosity over fear — not just once or twice, but again and again and again and again...

Creativity is a way that we can leave a tiny handprint on the walls of our lives, proving: "I was here. I made a thing. I did this." It doesn't have to be Mozart. It doesn't have to be Van Gogh. It doesn't have to be monumental to be monumental. Creativity is one of the best ways we can prove to ourselves that we did not just come to earth to pay bills and die, but that we also came here explore the mysteries of expression — and to be unreasonable, whimsical, searching, curious, gorgeous, and sometimes just plain odd.

Creativity is one of the most effective ways to cause a revolution in your own heart.

Creativity is for everyone. Your ancestors did it; my ancestors did it; and I hope to God that you and your descendants will all do it, too.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that you don't belong in the realm of creativity, or that you aren't invited. And don't ever let anyone ever project their fears and insecurities about their OWN creative existence on to YOU.

Just keep making your own thing, and watch what happens to your own beautiful life as a result.

So that is what I believe.

CREATIVITY BELONGS TO YOU.

You are all wonderful, and I love you, and thank you for everything that you bring to me and teach me...

ONWARD,

LG

But seriously, can I get an amen?! As I read that this morning, I wanted to climb through my computer screen and give Liz a big hug for putting words to something I so fundamentally agree with in my bones. 

While I’m not sure I could ever communicate this idea as beautifully as Liz does here, it is a topic that I want to echo for you all today because it is that important. 

It reminded me of an article I stumbled across months and month ago called "The Mediocre Movement" about the saturation of hand-lettering and typography inspiration in art and design. In this Medium post, the author pretty much posits that our collective taste level for design — especially hand-lettered typography — is on a rapid decline. That we should be more discerning in who we support and what we deem to be inspiring or great. 

I remember reading this article, my heart level increasing with every word, and thinking, “Okay, but WHY? Why must there be an objective standard for what art is deemed good and what good does it do to discourage people from expressing themselves through art?”

It’s this very thinking that prevents SO many people from even embarking on the creative journey in the first place. It is this "not enough" mentality that feeds our pre-existing fears and prevents us from experiencing the transcendent joy of creating and stretching and growing and expressing.  

Listen, I understand where the sentiment comes from. The author of that piece is clearly passionate about design and art and beautiful things and he wants to protect his idea of what that is in our society. I can’t blame anyone for wanting to protect what they love. 

However, do you know what is more important than beautiful things? 

Beautiful people. Beautiful lives. Beautiful experiences.

A world filled with people who love themselves and share their stories and are generous with their experiences. A world full of wonder and discovery and possibilities, not standards and rules and exclusion. 

I know from experience that creativity, expression, exploration, delight, self-love… these are the building blocks of beautiful things -- things that aren't things at all. 

So, the sentiment I want to leave you with this week is precisely what Liz shared: 

Creativity belongs to you. (And don't you EVER forget it.)

It is your human right to create. And whatever comes of it -- whether deemed "good" or "not so good" -- is irrelevant. 

Please, for ALL of our sakes, "create whatever causes a revolution in your heart." :)

Wishing you a beautiful week!

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Defending The Essential

Boy oh boy has it been a whirlwind of a few weeks for me! 

My world, my routines, my comfort — they’ve all been turned upside down by trips to South Dakota then Mexico then Palm Springs. My introverted ways have definitely been tested from moments of speaking to crowds and navigating group vacations and giving my all to days and days of conversation. 

Don’t get me wrong, while this stretch has brought me immense joy with its gorgeous views, lasting memories and deepening friendships, if I’m being honest, coming out the other side feels a bit like I've been tossed around in a washing machine with no clue as to which way is up. 

At first glance it's hard to know how I got so "over-booked" in the first place, but upon further inspection, it's actually no wonder at all.  

As humans, our instinct is to think we can do it all.

Of course I want to speak at TEDx! Of course I want to go on a Mexican vacation! OF COURSE I want to have a fun girls trip with my best friends in the world! 

But all at once? Back to back? My current state is teaching me... maybe not so much. 

Which leads me to this week's topic: essentialism. 

To be more accurate, that's Essentialism with a capital E, because when I returned from my trip on Friday, as a part of my I'm-an-introvert-and-need-alone-time recuperation regiment, I started reading the book Essentialism: The Disciplined Pursuit of Less by Greg McKeown.

The guiding principle of the book can be boiled down to this one phrase: less but better. It's the acknowledgement that eliminating non-essentials and focusing on a few key things will allow us to more effectively allocate our limited resources (time, money, energy, thought, etc.) to the things that matter most. 

I'm just a few chapters in and already it's proving to be a powerful reminder for me of how defining the essential can be applied to all sorts of things: my work productivity, my business strategy, my wardrobe, my relationships, my daily routine... the list goes on. 

The timing of the book felt especially poignant for me (coming off my "I can do it all" travel-palooza) when I read this:

“But when we try to do it all and have it all, we find ourselves making trade-offs at the margins that we would never take on as our intentional strategy. When we don’t purposefully and deliberately choose where to focus our energies and time, other people — our bosses, our colleagues, our clients, and even our families — will choose for us, and before long we’ll have lost sight of everything that is meaningful and important. We can either make our choices deliberately or allow other people’s agendas to control our lives.”

— Greg McKeown, Essentialism

The thing that stood out to me there was the part about trade-offs. By assuming I could cram all of this travel into my schedule, there are things I had to sacrifice that I would never normally intentionally sacrifice. Things like my daily art practice, keeping up with this community, healthier habits, enough sleep, etc. 

By sitting down and really defining what is essential -- what we value MOST in our lives (ie. not a list of 40 things) -- we are better equipped to take control over those trade-offs. 

The lesson I learned these past few weeks was that as much as I think I know what my values are, I need to do a better job of defining them and, more importantly, protecting them. I need to take a hard look at what is absolutely essential in my own life so that I can decide what trade-offs I'm willing to make, rather than let other people choose for me. (For the record, let me be clear that no one forced me to go on these trips, nor did I NOT want to go. That's the whole point, I wanted so badly to do everything that I avoided making a hard decision that could have spared me from sacrificing some of my essentials.)

Before I wrap up, I want to share with you a timely example of someone I admire immensely defining their "essential" and defending it courageously.

Last night, I had the pleasure of seeing Elizabeth Gilbert on her Big Magic book tour. She was magnificent and wise and as delightful as I’d always imagined. (Side note: as I was writing this newsletter, she actually regrammed my lettering piece of one of my favorite quotes in her book and I pretty much died -- in the best way possible of course!)

At the end of the evening though last night, right before you might expect her to announce where you could line up to have her sign a copy of her book, with a heavy heart she sincerely explained why she had made the decision NOT to do a book signing line on this tour. She very clearly and authentically expressed that she knew the limitations of her body and her health, and after doing several previous book tours, she knew that she wouldn't last through the middle of December across multiple continents if every night she greeted hundreds individually. Her body (or energy reserves) just wouldn't allow it.

She apologized, of course, and while for a moment I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to give her the giant bear hug I'd planned, that moment of disappointment quickly turned into immense respect and gratitude.

She was showing us (showing me) what an intentional trade-off looks like up close. She was showing me what it looks like to make hard decisions in defense of your values. Staying energized to the max so that she can give every audience her best self requires saying NO to hours of hugs and book signings and convos with audience members, and that's a trade-off that, while difficult, was worth it. It required delivering momentary disappointment in exchange for her essential -- staying healthy and being the best version of herself for the duration of the tour.

What a gift, I thought.

After explaining all of this, she ended by reciting this poem by Louise Erdrich, throughout the entirety of which I could not wipe the huge grin off my face because it could not have been more fitting for this idea of trade-offs and defining what is essential to us.

Here’s the poem: 

"Advice to Myself" by Louise Erdrich

Leave the dishes.
Let the celery rot in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator
and an earthen scum harden on the kitchen floor.
Leave the black crumbs in the bottom of the toaster.
Throw the cracked bowl out and don't patch the cup.
Don't patch anything. Don't mend. Buy safety pins.
Don't even sew on a button.
Let the wind have its way, then the earth
that invades as dust and then the dead
foaming up in gray rolls underneath the couch.
Talk to them. Tell them they are welcome.
Don't keep all the pieces of the puzzles
or the doll's tiny shoes in pairs, don't worry
who uses whose toothbrush or if anything
matches, at all.
Except one word to another. Or a thought.
Pursue the authentic - decide first
what is authentic,
then go after it with all your heart.
Your heart, that place
you don't even think of cleaning out.
That closet stuffed with savage mementos.
Don't sort the paper clips from screws from saved baby teeth
or worry if we're all eating cereal for dinner again. Don't answer
the telephone, ever,
or weep over anything at all that breaks.
Pink molds will grow within those sealed cartons
in the refrigerator. Accept new forms of life
and talk to the dead
who drift in through the screened windows, who collect
patiently on the tops of food jars and books.
Recycle the mail, don't read it, don't read anything
except what destroys
the insulation between yourself and your experience
or what pulls down or what strikes at or what shatters
this ruse you call necessity.

Ahhh, yes. "This ruse you call necessity."

I adore this poem. I adore it because it is a poignant and (to me) hilarious reminder of the trade-offs we must make in life in order to protect our TRUE necessities, our essential. The things that make us come alive. The things that "destroy the insulation" between ourselves and our experiences. That magical transcendence of living in alignment with our true selves. 

So my challenge to you this week is to first define your essential.

What are the things you're simply not willing to sacrifice as a trade-off? Is it your health? The pursuit of your creativity? Is it that hour of silence you require in the morning to start your day right? Is it doing work that gives you that fiery stir in the pit of your stomach? 

Whatever it is, write it down. Once you do that, I'd also encourage you to write down some of the trade-offs you might have to make in order to DEFEND those things. 

“It’s not enough to define what’s essential to us; we must also DEFEND what is essential to us.”

Get really honest with yourself and write down some hard ones. It might be saying no to the book club you love so you can spend that hour each week writing the first draft of your own book. It might be shelving that business idea for now so that you can be all in with your kids when they get home from school. Whatever those values are, it's important to prepare yourself for those challenging moments when you might have to protect them. 

Looking back, I wish I had a better sense of my own essentials so that I had the courage to raise my hand and say "I can't travel on those dates" because even though I loved each of those trips and enjoyed them, I'd be lying to myself if I said I brought my best self to each experience, and that's not fair to me or anyone else. 

Anyway, happy to be re-connecting with you guys and thanks for your patience in the Slack channel and on email lately -- I appreciate it. 

Wishing you a week of less, but better!

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