I’m sorry it’s been so long. You were my saving grace in childhood, before I dismissed you so callously and without consideration. I saw you in me as being somehow less than you in another. I disowned you by discounting myself as worthy enough to be graced by your presence. I ignored you and thought you were for the weirdoes, the underachievers, and the crazies. I curtailed my curiosity for fear of insanity, and ignored inspiration. I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I stopped drawing and singing, writing and crafting, doodling and fiddling with everything my hands could find. I’m sorry I stopped playing music and embracing silliness and daydreaming to pass the time. I’m sorry I stopped making up poems and plays and attempting improbabilities. I’m sorry I rejected the beauty of bewilderment for timidity and boredom for the sake of conventionality. I’m sorry I tamed my imagination and stopped taking risks. I’m sorry I exchanged adventure for the comfort of safety, and traded vitality for security.
But I want you back. I want reckless abandon and childlike wonder. I want to write. To innovate. To inspire. To create. To risk. To explore. To expose. To embrace. So let’s go somewhere we’ve never been. Let’s blaze a trail, explore a whim. Let’s dance and eat and fall in love all over again.
I promise I will do my best to nurture you, to hold you close, albeit loosely. I promise to love you, to cherish you, to savour you. I promise to unhinge the shame from my creative process. We don’t have to make amazing art, or amazing anything. We just have to make. We don’t have to wow the world. And we don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be.
We can be public or personal, poem or prose, primitive or sophisticated. We can be clean and proper. Or we can push the limits. We can be sensual and witty, and entirely extraordinary. But let’s run away together. Because the monotony of safety will be the death of me.
And dearest Creativity, thank you for finding me again. Thank you for giving me another chance and believing in me and helping me believe in myself.
So today, I reinstate you as part of my identity.
Your very own,
BGJ, Creative Soul