Creativity is a gift from the soul.  It can ease your worries.  Keep your heart company.  Surely, allow room for your spirit to soar.  Moreover, its variations are endless since we are all creators with our own paths and passions.

Writing from the soul is my passion of choice.  This sort of writing—at its rawest—doesn’t have time to think.  Instead, the soul swiftly weaves its wonder and spews magic to your fingertips.  As you scribble across a notebook, your body releases its burdens, imaginings, truths.  The aftermath rests unsure on a page that can hardly bear the weight of it all.  But your heart kicks back and sighs, even smiles when all is said and done.

Writers live for this sort of experience.  Or at least I do.  It balances me.  I need to go far from myself, my life situation, my fears, even as I know that, in the end, all of these things will be reflected in some shape or form in the writing itself.

I knew when I sent my daughter to elementary school, writing would be the space for me to cope, process, and work through a labyrinth of emotions.  Worry remained at the top of the list.  I agonized over whether her educators would know how to reach her, work with her, understand her.  On the most basic level, I wanted them to see her essence not simply her diagnoses of autism and selective mutism.  And, of course, I longed for them to fall in love with her sunshine spirit, as well as believe in her potential to bloom and flourish.

When the weight of my worries finally reached a crescendo one summer morning, I knew it was time.  So I picked up a notebook and a pen.  I retreated outside to a quiet spot near my favorite oak, lugging along my ripened anxiety, a body tired of listening, and an imagination primed to weave.  In a matter of minutes, a passage burst forth.  It would become the foundation to a magical realism novel I worked on throughout the school year.  This uncensored writing from the soul delivered the seed.

I grew that seed into a meaningful story, day by day, slipping into a meditative state.  By tending to my creative outlet while my daughter went to school, I was able to give to her in a way she needed during a tough transition.  In addition, it helped me field the emotional peaks and valleys of her school year.  As such, I remained overall present and strong—a gift soul-delivered through my creativity.

Whatever mode of creativity remains your passion of choice, grab it.  Then, use it to unload your heartache.  Whether it’s gardening, dancing, quilting, decorating, whatever it may be…engage with it.  Make time for it.  Nurture it.  Let it flow and grow.  Release.

Often I imagine my soul as a sponge.  In this regard, I can only hold so much pain before I need to give it a good squeeze.  Creativity, in all forms, works as one of the most wondrous ways I know to do it.

Find and own a chunk of time today to release your concerns…and your creativity!