Finding our way home to our Creative Essence.

Reclaiming our aliveness and the expression of our soul. Quality #6 in the True Self Series

In today’s newsletter we explore the aspect of Creative Essence as part of the True Self. Your unique creative expression.

Often, when we speak about creativity we envision an artist. A painter, dancer, musician, writer etc. But our creative essence is not limited to the domain of the artist, it is in fact the expression of our life force.

It informs the way we speak, move, work, parent, socialise and go about being who we are in the world. It is a necessary part of our life in this human form, and yet so often it is something that is shut down.

As young children, we all came in with our own essence. We all sang, danced and built castles in the sky. In Willy Wonka style we imagined worlds made of candy, and rivers made of chocolate. We believed in Santa Claus or other imaginary characters that kept us living in a world of magic and wonder.

A world of pure possibility.

Until life happened, and what we dreamed of wasn’t possible anymore.

For many of us, qualities of our creative essence were shut down, either early on in life, or later in our schooling years when our dreaming, our honest expression, our robust life force was too much, or too little, or not ‘correct’ by someone else’s standards.

But it still lives in us. Waiting latent in the heart for us to open a door to it and let it breathe us into life again.

When we speak about creativity, we often think of artists. Painters, dancers, musicians, writers. People who live in studios or on stages, who have something extraordinary or rare. But our creative essence is not reserved for a chosen few. Nor is it about talent, achievement, or making something beautiful or impressive.

It is something far more essential than that.

Our creative essence is the way our soul moves through the world. It is the imprint of our aliveness on life itself.

It shapes how we speak, how we move, how we relate, how we make meaning, how we dream, how we respond to beauty or pain. It is the language of our inner life, made visible. And although it may find form through art, it is not limited to it.

Creative essence expresses itself through how we dress, how we decorate a space, how we parent, how we solve problems, how we make a meal, hold a conversation, how we follow an impulse just because it feels true.

It is one of the ways the True Self comes into form, and yet, for many of us, it is a part that has been forgotten or left behind.

As children, we lived from this place without even thinking about it.

If you have a child in your world you will see this clearly. They dance because the music moves them. I recall in my own childhood we sang without knowing the words. We invented games and characters and worlds that felt as real as anything we could touch.

There was no separation between imagination and reality, no fear of being wrong or looking silly. We expressed ourselves not for an audience, but because something inside us wanted to move, to play, to feel, to be. This is what expression looks like when it is still free. When it hasn’t yet been shaped by shame, judgment or how the world tells us we need to be, in order to fit in.

At some point, many of us learned to pull back.

In the face of someone’s judgment, rejection or simple disinterest, that divine spark dimmed, and something contracted around it. An invisible wall that said ‘its not safe to go there’.

We learned that certain parts of our expression were too much, too loud, too messy, too sensitive, too bold. Maybe we got ourselves into trouble by being too open, too alive, too exploratory and free. Or perhaps we were not enough. Not polished. Not perfect. Not impressive.

We may have been praised for being quiet, compliant, tidy, clean, easy to manage. Or we may have been ignored altogether.

Little by little, we adapted.

We learned that it is safer to be one of the watchers, instead of the expressers. We scanned for cues about what was acceptable and shaped ourselves accordingly.

This adaptation often happens so early and so subtly that we don’t realise it has occurred.

But its effects remain.

We second-guess our instincts. We question our ideas. We silence our impulses. We say what we think others want to hear instead of what is true. We believe we’re not accepted, we are not creative. Or we push ourselves to produce something good enough, acceptable enough, impressive enough to earn approval.

Expression becomes tied to outcome.

The natural aliveness we once knew shrinks beneath layers of performance and self-protection.

And yet, that essence never disappears.

It waits. We feel it in the places that still light up at the sight of something beautiful, at the urge to make something with your hands, the impulse to sing in the car, the longing to create just for the joy of it. Your creative essence is not gone. It is dormant, perhaps. But it is intact.

To reclaim it is to remember something of your essence.

To soften the grip of your inner critic.

To meet the fears that live in your body with presence and care.

To notice where you’ve been holding back, and gently begin to open.

Do you have the urge to dance again? To write? To make art? To sing or speak what lives in your heart? To let a part of you out that you have pushed down into the shadows? To free some inhibitions? To try on a different clothing style?

Simply because something inside you wants to come alive again?

Rather than managing how life and others see you, this return to creative essence is about participation with life again. Letting yourself play, experiment, explore, and feel without constantly measuring whether it’s good enough, makes sense or fits the image that you have of yourself. Rebuilding trust in your own voice, your own rhythm, your own authentic way of being.

This trust comes from presence. From slowing down and meeting yourself. Listening to the inner urge. The quiet little voice nudging you in a direction that might feel scary. And making room for that. Trusting that its direction will guide you home.

When we give ourselves that room, we are saying yes to our life force. Yes to our authentic essence.

We begin to feel the joy of creating for its own sake.

In 2017 I had my first solo show as a visual artist, and the following week I packed my studio down for good. I was given an award that evening, a year long mentorship with a prominent Australian artist, and an exhibition in a prominent regional gallery.

I had wanted to be an artist all of my life. And at my first big break, I turned it all down.

Why?

Because at one point in the evening of the opening, something in me died. I felt it like a black hole engulfing my heart and belly, and all the passion I had for art was swallowed whole.

I stood in the corner behind the rows of champagne glasses, staring out over a sea of people, wondering ‘who gets it?’ I’ve just spent the last 6 months of my life working on these pieces. It was a show about death and rebirth, my creative process around reconciling the loss of my partner to suicide 3 years prior. It was deep, meaningful and tender. But no one knew what I knew.

The show made it commercial. I lost the joy of making art for arts sake. Instead waiting for the approval of a red sticker to validate my work.

I had entered the commercial world of art, concerned about making sales.. when what I really wanted was for my work to make a difference. To change lives. To speak to people’s hearts. I felt like I had failed.

All the love, energy, joy, freedom, play and spontaneous happenings I adored in my studio process got packed up into boxes that are still stored on my shelves in my garage. I’ve not made a single piece since.

And a part of me still grieves this loss.

You see in my heart I am an artist. I always have been. I always will be.

And creativity fuels everything that I do. And it brings me to life. Which is the point from which I write this piece.

It is just my medium that changes.

At this point in my life I bring my creativity to my practice, in the way I weave questions, ideas and guidance into therapy with my clients, and to this page as I piece together the materials that make up this post. It is not as messy and fun as my studio time, but the creative process is the same. Drawing from knowledge, insight, playing with ideas, words etc.

In time to come I will reinvigorate my studio practice, and make art for arts sake again. I feel the call.

But until then, words are my way.

When we are in touch with our creative essence, we begin to feel more connected to our experience, more attuned to our body, more alive in our skin. Our creativity flows FROM our essence. Essence informs it. We begin to follow what lights us up without needing to justify it. We stop performing, and we start inhabiting. We stop editing, and we start listening.

And in that listening, we find the part of ourselves again that is a living, breathing, expressive soul.

Creative essence is not a trait you either have or don’t have. It is a birthright. It is not about whether you can draw or write or sing. It is about whether you feel safe enough to let something real move through you.

And that safety can be grown. That capacity can be restored. You do not have to wait for permission.

Your creative essence is within you. And it is not asking you to be extraordinary. It is simply asking to be lived.

Maraya

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Here’s a few journaling questions for you;

• When do I feel most alive?
  What am I doing, thinking, or feeling in those moments?

• What was the moment I first felt that my expression was “too much” or “not enough”?
  How did I adapt in response to that moment?

• Where have I been holding back from expressing who I really am?
  In what contexts or relationships?

• What might it look like to experiment with being a little more honest, bold, or playful in those spaces?

• If I knew that my creative essence could never be wrong, how would I begin to live differently?