Mel’s Monday Musings: February 25, 2019

Do you find that your creative cycles wax and wane? Do they correspond with lunar cycles or anything else that you’ve been able to put your finger on?

It took me entirely too long to realize that my creativity and what’s happening in nature are indelibly linked…no surprise, really, because humans aren’t separate from nature. We think of it as what’s “out there,” beyond our windows, but we are natural. We are sinew and stardust, cells and survival, sweat and joy.

You really think the core of yourself is so different from the heart of the river, the mad-dashing squirrel, the scudding nighttime clouds or the bulbs slowly waking beneath the dirt?

We alienate ourselves from “the natural world,” hold ourselves above or apart from it at every turn. It’s clear in how we think, how we live, how we treat the planet that sustains us all, our first earth-mother who will embrace us again someday. Then we wonder why we feel withered and weary, always dragging and never really fully alive.

It’s true that sometimes being “out in nature” isn’t comfortable. It’s hot or it’s rainy or it’s cold or the ground is squelchy…but it’s unnatural to live your life so willfully disconnected from so much. You were born for sun and wind and yes, rain and snow, mud and grass and leaves.

You could never be truly separate. Your soul calls for that certain landscape, whether it be ocean tides and hot-foot sands or the shale and granite of mountains, the darkling forest, the wide grassy plains or something else entirely. It’s a song you know so very well that its absence sets echoes ringing painfully through your being until your veins hum with remembering and longing.

We don’t listen to ourselves like we should…but it’s not too late to learn.

One small way I’ve been striving to “do better” is to yield to the natural flow of my creativity. I have lunar-linked tides like the ocean (no surprise, given my saltwater roots), and when I listen to myself, the words and the paintings foam and froth out of me at will, the colors in sync with the forces within and beyond. I don’t get as frustrated, either, in this mindset, because I understand that ebb and flow. The tide goes out; it will return.

I don’t want to be at war with my Muses. I’d rather dance with them, stumbling though I may often be, relearning the ancient steps.

How can you better honor your place in nature?