When your friends are right about things...

A dear friend of mine told me a few weeks ago she thought I should be writing. On my blog. We were in the middle of a conversation about me, and how I wasn't doing well, and she had the guts to just say "I think you should be writing." Just like that. And I dismissed it, with the usual "I don't have time" or the "Well, I'm journaling..." Both were only half-true. And I knew those reasons didn't cancel out the reason why she suggested I write -- because it's an outlet for me, because it creates space, because it helps me continue to use my voice. And then, I re-found this article, from GOOD, (which by the way, if you didn't know, is really stinking good). The article was posted last year, and it's called: One Is Not Enough: Why Creative People Need Multiple Outlets."

And so I read it, and it rang true in so many ways. And so here is what I know, and where I stand, and things that I cannot deny:

1) I am a creative. Whether it's my insatiable love for music, my picky eye for color, my Enneagram profile, my Strengths/weaknessfinder, or whatever... I am a creative. I have a whole other side that is fascinated by numbers and straight lines and systems and gears... but I also have a side that is fueled and energized by art and color and sound and music.

2) My job demands both sides of me... the artistic and the systematic... but if my job is my only creative outlet, and I'm not practicing the art of making something in any other way, then eventually my hands only remember how to type and use a trackpad, and I forget how to play a Em7 chord, or make a roux, or string together a sentence that is more than 140 characters.

3) When I don't write and don't journal, my head gets really stuffy. I feel like I'm walking around with a head cold that I can't get rid of. When I write, it feels as though my pen is stitching things to a page, and what once was floating around is now anchored in time and space.

4) Writing things in my journal is one thing. Writing for the world to see (like here on the interwebs) is another beast. It's harder, it's scarier, and it's more difficult to be honest and transparent. But at the same time it forces me to process before I get to the page -- because I can't just go on a rant about my roommate and her vegan food in the fridge, or my boss and his love for The West Wing. (Neither of which bother me, BTW. In fact I love both veggies and The West Wing). Because hey, they may both read my blog. So, writing here all at once requires of me transparency and the hard work of processing and reflecting.

5) My friend was right.