Do you ever feel an ache in your heart? It is both a longing and a void. It is dark and alluring simultaneously. I feel it. I feel it all the time. But it is the kind of ache which spurs you on. Prod a little deeper and it tells you there is more. Ask it ‘why’ and it will lead you down another track, to more questions, and later, more choices. For the ache is a choice, a choice to create, and to create is to be led into that void; that undeniably frightening quest to discover. Each time you show up to the blank page, or a viewfinder or an empty canvas, or to where the ache is calling, each time you show up, the quest becomes richer, deeper, more alluring because you move deeper towards your soul and find some meaning, some connection, if only for a moment.
Right now, as I write, I can physically feel the ache. It is deep deep in my belly, or is it my womb. If I dare to feel it fully I know it will make me cry, not with pain, but with the exquisite vastness of fear and that inexplicable longing. It feels like there is a universe within there, with a life force which I can never understand but can only approach. I write to touch this. I paint to touch this. I take photographs to touch this. I may never understand it, but I know it will animate.
To create is to animate that force too- to provide depth, dimension, form as we dive into that creative cosmos to pluck forth a poem, extract an image or carve some words of tenderness and hope. When we create we begin to experience that sense of belonging to something wider, beyond ourselves, and in showing up to the page we participate with the unfolding of meaning and experience. It is reciprocity in action.
But sometimes we only have a glimpse of it; a brief moment during the creative process that you don’t know who is writing or what is that force surging as you paint. But you feel it, a power beyond yourself. The brevity is the ache too. The painting comes, then lands. The words congeal, settle, form. The image becomes fixed. We do our best to catch them. But what we catch will never be enough, it will never quite get there, because all the time we are in dialogue with what ‘there’ actually is. And yet we trust, that there will be more words, more paintings, more images, more creative possibilities. We show up again and again and again, to animate ourselves, and in doing so we animate the world.
The ache is longing and the longing is life.
So what do you long for? And what are you aching to create today?