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From time to time I’m still asked about my college major, and when I share it was International Relations many who know me look confused.

You didn’t major in English or Creative Writing?
Nope, sure didn’t.
But aren’t you a writer?
Yes, yes I am.
Why?

Although I began writing at a very young age, starting with mini stories I would write and read aloud during Show and Tell in Elementary School, it never occurred to me that I could write as a profession. It was as if the title, “Writer”, wasn’t really connected to anything tangible, and I fostered this limited belief for many years leading into college. Along the way I had collected these myths behind creativity: suffering artist, isolationism, irresponsibility, a life of deprivation, lack of jobs, and lack of jobs that would support the lifestyle I knew I wanted to live. What’s interesting is I never stopped writing. My creativity was an important part of who I was and this gift I had received needed release in some way. I was never conscious of it until many years later that the jobs I held always required writing. And if writing wasn’t a major component of the job, I still managed to infuse my talent into the position by offering to document or proposing a new process that would require documentation. I never stopped writing in my journal or writing stories, but I only shared my works with friends and loved ones.

Things began to shift for me in my late 20s, when I would hear friends tell me that they weren’t creative and didn’t receive an ounce of artistic talent at birth. One myth I NEVER bought into was the limitation of our creative expression, and you were only an artist if you could write, draw, paint, sculpt, sing, play an instrument or take photographs. The final straw came when I overheard someone say you couldn’t call yourself a writer unless you were published. Although I’m not one to normally intrude on a conversation, especially when I don’t know the people, I felt an obligation to ask, “And where is that elitist rule written?” It’s not written anywhere, just like the “you’re not an artist if you work in Corporate America” rule isn’t based on any level of reality. We live and breathe creativity every day from how we decorate our homes to the clothes we wear to the meals we make to the presentations we develop to the financial budgets we write and implement. When we feed our inner artist, our minds open to fabulous ideas and dreams. I’ve yet to see a grown adult turn down a child when asked if they wanted to color. I know I jump at the chance to spread out on the floor with a rainbow pack of crayons.

Yesterday I met with a client who asked me about my meditation practices. I don’t believe there is any wrong way to meditate, and we all have our own definitions on what the word means. For me, it’s about finding still and silent time where I can block out my external environment and hear my still small voice. My effortless way to connect to my stillness is when I watercolor. I have a collection of Mandala coloring books that have provided me hours of contemplation and connection. This time I give myself opens a pathway between my mind and heart and fosters the resolution of blocks, obstacles and fears ~ not to mention the divine ideas which show up. This same client shared with me her passion for cooking and seemed hesitant at first to quantify or commit to an amount of time she could dedicate to a catering business. When I asked what she loved the most about cooking and the volunteer catering she does on Sunday’s for her spiritual center, without pause she replied, “I get to create. I never follow recipes.” If time permitted, I know she could have talked for hours on her creative passion for cooking. She was beaming! As someone who requires cookbooks and precise ingredients and instructions on how to boil eggs, my client is a creative genius. She is an artist.

It seems at the beginning of every new year we all are a bit gutsier. We’ve acquired a new energy and spirit and are willing to try new things. Take a moment to remember the first time you created anything and what that was. How old were you? Where did it take place? How did you feel? How can you recreate that environment now? Consider taking yourself on an artist date to a museum, concert, dance lessons or a cooking class. It’s time to make a conscious choice to tap into our inner artists and allow expression to fill all areas of our lives. You might end up being pointed toward a new career or business, as well as finding a life balance.

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