Sometimes, I crave creativity. I crave the longing to make beautiful things, be among beautiful creations, then re-create and reproduce even more. Either through written words or spoken or picture or elements.
There is something about a line crossing another at just the right angle and the light hitting the other line at just the right time of the day, casting a shadow across another. There's something about the way colors intersect and create more colors. There's something about the symmetry of a row of trees. There's even more about the composition of city grid lines, the structure of a fence, the meshing of textures. The breeze picking up nature and laying it down again. The twinkling russet sunset luminating dreams and hopes. Inspiring a peace. A calm. A hug, a stretch of a hand, an apology, a smile, or a whisper from the creator reminding his created that they are the most prized of his creation.
I get lost in these thoughts for just a few seconds then the "ding" of another email startles my wandering mind back to the pixels of my computer screen. Across the top right of my screen is a notification of another request needing a response. Or better yet, a reminder of something that I have yet to initiate.
I get lost in these thoughts for just a few seconds then the blaring noise of a horn startles me back into reality that the traffic light just turned blaring green. How did you not see it .5 seconds ago? It's time to move again. No time to stop. No time to wander. Keep moving towards your scheduled destination.
I get lost in these thoughts for just a few seconds then my cat jumps on my lap, meowing, reminding me he's hungry. I walk into the kitchen, open the cupboard, feed my darling kitty then look up only to be reminded of responsibility that lays all around. Time to do the dishes, the laundry, and for heaven sakes you haven't vacuumed this week!
I may long for creation and creativity. To be wandering and free. Yet when I'm pulled back to reality, I have to remind myself that I am all those things. I am a part of the beautiful mess of creation. I get to take part in it with every passing moment. In the recognition and longing for eternal creation and in the present realities.
C.S. Lewis once said that it's in the present moment that the eternal, the heavenly intersects with reality.
Even when those longings for beauty and creation come, I cannot succumb to the trained response to stuff those emotions or thoughts. I need to sit. To let my mind wander. To feel hope and longing. To be reminded of the more that is to come. To let myself realize that not only do I long for creation, but I long for eternity. I long for all things to be assumed in glory, in perfection with the perfect One. When those longings realize themselves in my being, I can't ignore them because of the rush of efficiency or productivity. Even if it means a rush of sadness or compassion or so many emotions you can't identify that it brings a tear to your eye.
And then when those strings tug, snapping me out of longings and hopes, reminding me of my current surroundings, I am a little more free. A little more aware of my identity. Of my purpose. Of those things to come and those things that already are. That I am free and will be free. That I am created and am called to continuing creating. When I allow the present to intersect with the eternal, I am re-created once again. Moment by moment, a little more free to live in the reality that I already am free.
I like to talk.