Do what makes your heart sing, your soul dance and keep you fulfilled right? Yeah, it is so true. Having a very creative personality it is so difficult when you are constricted and unable to express yourself. Of course I am realistic and I know life is what it is, and we can’t just dance in the rain and be free to do what we want, and I’m not at all unhappy with the things I do on a daily basis. It is the creative side in me that rebels and reminds me constantly that is is deprived of truely great moments of expression.
I have my moments where I feel so unbelievably restricted, and at times it can feel quite claustrophobic.. almost like I desperately need to come op for air just to find that it is a brief gasp. I never realised how important certain things are to me and what meaning they hold but as I’m growing older and exploring the aspects of my personality I realize more and more what it is I want, and what I crave to feel fulfilled. I know I’m ambitious, which in itself makes things difficult. I had so much to prove to some people, which I have done and have gone above and beyond the small goals I set for myself. I suppose it circles back to the fact that I have satisfied certain needs, and in the process I have greatly neglected to satisfy my creative needs. I’m sure it is a very difficult concept for people who are not creative to grasp, but it really eats away at you, slowly but surely.
I have left work on so many nights determined to go home and do something creative, just to get there exhausted flopping down on the couch with very little in mind other than seeing the girls off to bed and going to bed myself. So what to do, how do you fill the empty gaps deprived of all the little pleasures you love in a world that is so unbelievably limited.
It feels like a curse, equipped with the desire to do so much but chained and unable to. At the moment I’m looking forward to a holiday that is already filled with so many mundane “have to do” tasks hoping there will be a few moments I can steal to be just me. If only I can refuel with a little bit of what I so desperately crave, then I can see another year through. If not, I’m sure it will be great, but my heart will only hum, and not sing again until it has been covered in paint stained brush strokes, or filled with the words of endless novels.