Some thoughts on scratching a creative itch, and the search for relief....
Give me the good chemicals. The dopamine. The serotonin. The melatonin.
Let's have some relief.
It's funny though - sometimes the relief isn't going to come from the thing we think it will.
We think of relief like a pill.
I used to think of the concept of peace like this.
Like this light feeling that will wash over me.
Like taking an Advil and feeling the headache go away.
That little buzz from the first sips of wine.
Like one day we will wake up transformed, and everything will be how we want it to be.
And yet. I'm finding these good feelings are more like a push-up.
Or doing the dishes.
It's maintenance.
It's building muscles, and habits, or rebuilding them after they've been removed by some big change or loss. I mean wine and Advil have their place, don't get me wrong...
And yet.
So relief- does it come from resting on the couch? or does it come from getting up and doing the thing that's been in the back of your mind to do, that feels nearly impossible to do, and maybe will only take a minute or two but for some reason you just can't even?
Both are necessary.
But nothing's more stressful than sitting around when you know you can do the thing you actually want to do, that would give some relief.
An idea is like a rock in your shoe. You must get it out or it'll drive you nuts.
Maybe it's a creative pebble.
That project in the back of your mind
Maybe it's a relational rock.
The person you've been meaning to reach out to.
Maybe it's a visual stone.
That bag of stuff in the trunk of the car that's supposed to go to the thrift store and just has not made it there.
And after all that, I wonder if it's even the relief we're looking for, if we aren't just looking for the action itself. The act of living.
