The creative process is an interesting place, as mysterious and unpredictable as Life itself. And the more I am immersed in the unfolding of my creative dreams, the more I discover. There are these gaps within the creative process, liminal spaces that can be scary, but they are as essential as the ones where I am dreaming or actually producing. And these are the things that aren’t talked about much.
Restlessness, uncertainty, insecurity—these are what my liminal spaces in my own creative process contain. These are not comfortable things to sit with. And yet…they are essential to the process.
For example, on the other side of restlessness is the beginning of something beautiful. But if I don’t allow myself to actually be restless, then I’ll never get to putting something down on the page. Say I’m sitting down to write, and I feel it—that familiar internal stirring that makes me want to jump out of my skin. So, I clean my room, the bathroom, I water the plants, I do laundry; hell, I may even cook. All of these “tasks” contain creative fire…they are creation. So, if I do these things instead of allowing myself to embrace that internal stirring, then I feel satisfied (in a way) because the creative process has been fulfilled; something has been created. See, creation doesn’t care what you create, only that it is fulfilled. Before I realized that restlessness was the first step in my process, it would take me three hours to move through it, and by then I either ran out of time or steam to actually sit down and write. Now that I know, now that the internal stirring is familiar, now I work with it; it is my friend and my co-creator in this process of creation and becoming.
Now, I feel it; I sit; I shake my leg; I breathe. Within 30 minutes, usually, that restlessness leads me to the page. And we create together.
That liminal space, whatever it contains, is nothing to be feared or fought. It’s the space between. It’s the void, where nothing and everything exists simultaneously. It’s the magical space where creation is born.
And now, in this moment, the liminal space for Mary Walks has passed. She’s officially out in this world. And I’m still moving through all of the feelings around birthing her. But she’s here. Ready. Waiting. To be seen. To be heard. May she fly and land in the hearts she’s meant to. May she be free.
Thank you all for joining me here.