Creativity is a Journey

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Creativity is a journey that begins with sensitivity and exploration.

Everything has the potential to be a creative muse as we observe, listen, taste, touch, and experience throughout life. But if we only collect, or passively absorb life’s textures, we can become overwhelmed with our library of unrealized possibilities, and never take action to create. The key to healthy creativity is balancing chaos and structure: learning how to store, filter, process, and recall these inspirations in new relational combinations – connecting the unconnected in a way that afterwards seems natural.

When we live our journey as curators of treasure meant to be shared, and let go of the fear of failure or rejection, there are no mistakes … only discoveries.

Creativity is a paradox. It communicates in a universal language, but cannot be fully understood outside the story of its creator. It flows graciously like a beautiful river bringing life, but has the power to destroy if it’s held captive. Creativity must move. It must be released. Creativity is a tension between the heart, mind, and spirit – an emotional expression of spirit that both defies and clarifies logic. It almost makes sense – until it does, and then it doesn’t. It must be practiced in order to grow, but will die if over rehearsed. Creative process is not robotic muscle memory of a repetitive task. It is learning to unlearn the constraints that previously limited our finite perspective. We never master the art of creativity. It is not a destination. It’s a pilgrimage up a never ending mountain with the Creator, providing greater purpose with every step.

Enjoy the Journey.

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Questioning Reality

I knew this day would eventually come. To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it. But I could never wrap my brain around why. Perhaps I was just scared. But today was the day.

Micah came home from school today and explained that kids at school said he was adopted and had another mother. He asked us if that was true.

We have always told our sons they were born in Guatemala and celebrated their heritage. But for the past couple years, they thought everyone was born there. We repeatedly explained that we weren’t born in Guatemala, but it never sunk in. According to Micah, “even Jesus and Santa Claus were born in Guatemala”. That was his perceived reality … at least until today when he was told by his peers that he was different.

My first reaction was anger and sorrow. I was angry that these kids might have told Micah this information to be mean to him. I was sad that that they might have hurt his feelings because they didn’t know the truth about adoption and his story. And of course, there was the fear that perhaps somehow my son would view us as people other than his parents who loved him. We planned to have this conversation with our sons eventually, but sometimes things don’t go as planned. At least we had read a lot of books that prepared us for the question. I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself as we ate dinner.

After dinner Amelia and I explained to Micah and Elliot in further detail how they came to be our sons. In short, we told them that their birth mother (tummy mamma) loved them very much, but that she could not take care of them. She loved them enough to give them to us so that we could take care of them and become their “forever parents”. We explained how Amelia and I tried to have babies from Amelia’s tummy but couldn’t and that we were very sad. But God had different plans. He gave us the gift of children through Micah and Elliot. And even more, we believe it was God’s plan all along. We told them that adoption is not second best or less special than being with a tummy mamma. God chose to give them to us and we are so very thankful that they are our sons. We were proud of their heritage and story and loved them both so, so, so very much.

We talked for a long time and explained our story in several ways. We even used Kung Fu Panda 2 as an example of adoption. I could see the wheels turning in Micah’s head. His eyes told me that he was contemplating this information. Then, he asked us the name of his tummy Mamma … And suddenly, after years of wondering to myself when it would happen … It was happening …

… and then just as quickly as he asked about his tummy mamma, he began talking about a video game …

Maybe it sunk in. Maybe it didn’t. We gave Micah and Elliot hugs and encouraged them to ask us questions about their story whenever they had them in the future. I am sure there will be more questions. Maybe it will be tomorrow. Maybe it will be next week or next year. But the questions will come, and we will answer them when they do.

For now, I know this: our sons KNOW that we love them and we are one more step further into our story together. It wasn’t a bad day after all.