merging with a greater source. This conscious contact
frequently affords us the perspectives needed to solve
vexing personal or creative conundrums.
It is a paradox of creative recovery that we must get
serious about taking ourselves lightly. We must work at
learning to play. Creativity must be freed from the narrow
parameters of capital A art and recognized as having much
broader play (that word again).
As we work with our morning pages and artist dates,
many forgotten samplings of our own creativity may come
to mind.
• I had forgotten all about those paintings I did in high
school. I loved painting those flats in drama tech!
• I suddenly remembered I played Antigone—who
could forget her? I don’t know if I was any good, but
I remember I loved it.
• I’d forgotten all about the skits I wrote when I was
ten. I set them all to Ravel’s Bolero no matter what
they were about. I made my brothers and sisters
swoon about the living room.
• I used to tap-dance. I know you can’t believe it now,
but I was something!
As we write, digging ourselves out of denial, our
memories, dreams, and creative plans all move to the
surface. We discover anew that we are creative beings. The
impulse cooks in us all, simmering along all the time—
without our knowledge, without our encouragement, even
without our approval. It moves beneath the surface of our