Creative Fire, by Aimee Dolich of Artsyville
"I hate quotations. Tell me what you know!"
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
It seems the topic of authenticity comes up quite frequently. I don't know much about the Laws of Attraction, haven't read anything about it, but I knew I wanted to write about it when I overheard a friend talking about how when she stretches herself toward her own authentic voice and vision, really great results come of it.
The drive to locate and then tap that special something within oneself is strong. We have the knowledge we have gifts unique to each of us. We trust that, right? But how can we express it? I've observed many artists, writers and creatives around me who play in different mediums and settings to try to find that magical sweet spot where the work really looks, sounds and feels like their own. Sometimes I find myself satisfied and sometimes I can see where I need to grow.
So what's the deal? Why does the universe seem to serenade us when we hit the mark and create from our guts, or when we make radical decisions from our power centers? When we strike upon the holy bell that tones through us, when we tap the most precious resource of who we are and what we're about, all the fairies do a happy dance and make the flowers bloom.
Do you ever find that you have to take a break from looking at or listening to what everyone else is doing in order to hear your own voice? I do. I don't want to be influenced by others amazing thought processes, rituals, color palettes or rousing poetry when I'm tending my soul's vision, and feeling vulnerable and wide open. Tracking my own inspiration requires my attention. Tough to do when there is so much uplifting work flowing around a body.
It can be very tricksy. Yet, I have a grounded belief that when we're doing exactly what we do best, living our dreams, and not someone else's, or wearing a mask of their vision- then lead becomes gold, if only until it's time to begin again. It is the reward we receive when we've tuned our wild ear to the strings playing in our own divine and worthwhile hearts.
For me, it comes down to trusting what I sense. When the Muse's voice starts whispering ludicrous and untimely suggestions up at me, I've been making notes, promising to honor her and get back to them as soon as I can. Meanwhile trying not to call her crazy. I keep proceeding, as I've said before, with my walking stick forged of trust.
I know the way. I know it when I feel it. This is a gift we all have.
Eyes up, nose to the ground.