When Creativity Flourishes
This summer I walked out my back door and groaned. The mulberry tree dropped a plethora of berries on the patio. There was a berry every two inches in each direction. Some berries get mercifully eaten by wildlife. Most just seem to await their fate of returning to soil.
I’m tempted to be annoyed because such a great quantity of mulberries begins to cause unpleasant aromas to one’s nostrils during the process of returning to soil. Not to mention they attract a multitude of insects I’d rather not have invade my property. And they turn your feet purple when you walk on them. But then I remember. Mulberries are just another invitation to enjoy the nature of seasons.
Spring is an invitation to plant gardens and tap maple trees for their sweet sap, summer is an invitation to collect hickory husks for dyeing linen (and picking mulberries to eat), fall is an invitation to chop down trees for firewood, and unlike the others, the dreaded winter is a special invitation for creativity.
Recently I read something my sister, Anna, wrote describing the importance of being truthful in creative nonfiction writing. She had a very interesting insight. She said that creativity doesn’t thrive in the absence of boundaries, rather, creativity flourishes within the constraints of boundaries. Limits are actually the best fuel for creation.
That’s why winter is a special time. The long dark nights, the bitter cold, the absence of color on the snow laden landscapes, the absence of signs of life among the plant species… it can all be quite depressing. Those are the boundaries, the limits that winter imposes on us. But instead of viewing them as burdens to endure, I wonder if we can view them as channels for our creativity to flourish within.
My town is nestled among the rolling hills next to the Mississippi. There is a popular path that goes along the river. If you go for a walk, most evenings you will find young and old couples enjoying the sunset together, groups of kids who are impressively good at skateboarding, the cyclists zooming by, and the heavy breath of joggers as they approach from behind and bounce about as they pass. Sometimes when I’m walking, I think about how if the river wasn’t pooled up by the boundaries of its banks, the barges couldn’t carry grain up and down the river, and we wouldn’t bother building this nice path here where we meet friends and enjoy the sunset. If the water was free to go anywhere, there wouldn’t be enough in one place to have a river at all. Boundaries sometimes create opportunities.
If winter is an especially difficult season for you, if the increased hours of darkness gnaw at your inner sanctum of joy as if each day is one step closer to the barricade being broken, that’s so hard. I’m sorry this struggle is something you have to go to war with each year.
This season as we get closer to the depth of darkness, I want to encourage you to add a new weapon to your arsenal. Practice viewing the darkness and cold as a limitation that is inviting you into increased creativity. Press in. Perhaps there are ideas waiting to be picked in the winter just like the mulberries waiting to be picked in the summer.
What are some other ways you have learned to cope with the darkness of winter?
8 Comments
Pingback:
20 Cozy Ways to Romanticize Your Life in Fall - DebritySherri Elinson
I agree completely. Boundaries and limitations focus our thoughts and skills in a way that a lack of restrictions doesn’t. Reading this made me think about how this entire year of 2020 has done that for many of us. So many people have started gardens, sewing projects, crafts and other creative pursuits that had never done so before. Not to mention finding new and creative ways to entertain ourselves and spend time with friends and family.
Thank you for this thoughtful and timely essay.
Sarah Kirsten
Oh I love how you broadened this out not just to winter but to all of 2020. So true! It’s nice to see things from that perspective. It makes 2020 seem not quite so difficult. Thanks for sharing, Sherri.
Ellen Boeke
Thank you for these thoughts! I agree with your opinions about boundaries and appreciate the new and helpful perspective on using the “boundary” of winter as a opportunity for increased creativity. ??
Ellen Boeke
Sorry about the question marks at the end of my comment – apparently that is what results when you add an emoji!
Sarah Kirsten
Hello Ellen, thanks for sharing this. Maybe this winter will be the most fun winter for us both yet! 🙂
Anita Vigorito
May I ask, about your sister? Is she a writer? The quote of hers you offer makes me think I’d really enjoy reading her work.
I find winter speaks to my soul more than any other season. There is much beauty in the sky and tree skeletons and moss and more.
Sarah Kirsten
Hello Anita, thanks for asking about my sister. She is a writer, and she sends out a weekly Sunday note with interesting thoughts and encouragement you may be interested in. If you’d like, you can get it here: https://www.aningri.com/asundaynote
I agree with you on winter. I mean, I still struggle with the bitter cold, but there is something special about the world in frozen state. Very raw and beautiful. Thanks for sharing that.