Of all my latest obsessions, this is one of the top three. Having finally gotten around to keeping a journal, as of July of last year, I'm coming to terms with a lot of things about myself and my mania to create. I also see now how that can be a sort of spiritual experience, a soul-purging kind of cleansing that leads to an number of epiphanies.

At UUC services yesterday creativity was the topic. We're in week 8 of the 10 week "Finding Your Unitarian Spirituality" course, and this is the week I've been waiting for with great anticipation. So, of course, as it turns out the service yesterday was interrupted by a man having what was possibly a heart attack. Talk about the jolt of mortality in the middle of a fascinating sermon...

Hopefully he'll be okay. After the ambulance left the sermon went on, as was the popular consensus. Creativity, the Rev. Dan said, is a sign of life. When creativity ends, you die.

And of course, that lead me to quip about the guy taken off in the ambulance, "I hope he hadn't stopped being creative..." And no, I didn't say that IN the church.

Intriguing thought. I know I'd die, a spiritual if not a mortal death, without creativity. I was never so depressed as the dark time when creativity was eclipsed by the exhaustion of motherhood. They both went hand in hand, feeding off each other leaving me miserable.

But now I write every day. I create constantly. And I'm if not blissful, at least content knowing I have that outlet. Bliss isn't an easy concept for me. I may have my moments, but they're not a constant. Maybe as I'm working through my various issues I'll find bliss more frequently. I expect it'll be in the pages of a book, a manuscript, or as soon as I get my butt in gear, a drawing or painting.

Wherever it is, I know it's in reach.

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