You are not a goddess. You are not a superhero. (Neither am I!)
You are human — gloriously, messily human. You’re here on this planet, at this time in our collective history, to experience and express the beauty of being fully, divinely, ordinarily human.
Isn’t that a relief? You can shed those goddess robes that trip you up when you walk, and make it impossible for you to run or jump or play. Strip off those clunky jewels and golden coronets that weigh you down. Wrench yourself free of that superhero costume that binds you like a sausage in a casing of primary colors. Slip into something more comfortable — like your pyjamas!
Being human, you are both immensely vulnerable and powerfully creative.
Your creativity — wedded to your desire and your love for this earth — brought you here, all the way from your first home in the realms of spirit and subtle energy, to this blue-green planet. It brought you into this world, naked, squalling, and utterly dependent on the goodwill of the folks around you to help you survive.
And survive you did. You’ve made it this far, thanks to the shelter of the folks who raised you, however inadequate or imperfect they may have been. You’ve made it on grit and grace and the power of your incarnation, riding the spirit of adventure and the creativity that is your birthright and heritage.
Your first and most glorious creation is your incarnation, your own wondrous life. Think of the power and love it took to propel you here from the subtle-energy realms into the world of form, into this shape that is utterly, uniquely you, unlike anyone else who’s ever been born!
That’s your creative power in action. That’s your love in action. Life-giving, life-embracing. One-of-a-kind generative.
Your incarnation is the quintessential co-creation. Your soul collaborated with the souls of your parents, your lineage, your family and country, the Devas of earth and cosmos, the Devas of the elements, and so many other beings, to achieve this singular purpose — to bring you into this world, so you could be part of the great experiment that is life on earth.
Let that sink in, for a moment. You had a vision of living a fully human life — and you made it happen, with the help of your beloveds.
So, where did all that creative power go, once you were born?
Why, when you’ve already created something so immensely complex and massive and beautiful, do you doubt your ability to create the thing you’ve been longing for — your art, your music, your business, your book. That exquisite thing that brushes its wings against your skin, causing your pores to open like flowers to the sun?
Why do you drown out your creative voice with a long litany of reasons why you can’t, you won’t, not now, maybe next year, maybe never?
Not enough time, you say. Not enough money. It’s too hard. It’ll take too long. There’s too much risk involved.
You’ll create it when you’ve learned more, acquired another degree, completed another training. When your kids have left home. When your health is better. When your savings account is overflowing, you’ve lost weight, discovered the meaning of life, landed that dream gig, made it through the crisis du jour.
You want guarantees. That’s common sense, right, to want assurances that your creation will be brilliant and successful, before you risk your time, energy, money — and heart?
So, you tell yourself, you’ll give it a go once you know exactly what you want to create, and how it will look when it’s done, and know just what your creation will bring you — wealth, fame, status, the admiration of your friends, your name in lights on Broadway!
But wait! If it’s too big a success, it will crush you. Your life will change forever. You’ll have to work all the time just to keep up. Your health will suffer, your family will suffer. Trolls will attack you on social media, you’ll become the target of every crazy person who doesn’t like the way you look, or the things you create. People will copy your creation and pass it off as their own.
You have so much to lose. Peace of mind. Privacy. Your nest egg, your family’s security. If you do succeed, your friends and colleagues will be envious; they won’t love you any more. They’ll expect you to take care of them because you’ll have money and they won’t. Or, they’ll abandon you, or you’ll abandon them, or you’ll become someone you neither recognize nor like. Success will turn you into an entitled, arrogant, clueless jerk.
Then there are the voices of deflation.
The ones that clamour: Who do you think you are, to want this, to make this, to offer this? Does the world really need another painting, another book, another program, another oracle? It’s all been done before, by people more gifted, more qualified than you.
So, you numb out. You buy things you don’t really want or need, just to feel some sense of agency. You avoid your studio, your desk, your notebook, your sketchbook. You grow morose, critical, judgmental. You think bitter thoughts about your friends who are creating and offering their work to the world even though it isn’t perfect.
Underneath it all lurks the fetid breath of fear.
Fear that, like Icarus, if you fly too close to your heart’s desire, your wings will catch fire and you’ll plunge to your death. Fear that you’ll lose the safety and comfort you’ve so carefully pieced together, that you’ll swap your mostly adequate life for something that could end up being much, much worse.
Or, fear that you’ll pour your everything into this creation, and no-one will want it, no-one will love it. Fear that it won’t be enough. That you won’t be enough.
Listen! Your soul’s creative power brought you into this life. You didn’t lose your ability to create when you left the realms of subtle energy and landed in this world of challenges and contradictions, of boundaries and limits.
Boundaries amplify your creative power. The speed and power of a river are greatest when its riverbanks are narrow and steep.
Incarnation carries its own powers and capacities, which harmonize with, but are different from, the powers and capacities of your extended soul.
As a human being, you carry within you the power of your humanity, the power of your personhood. You have the gifts and talents with which you were born, and ones you’ve cultivated since your arrival. You hold the power of your desire, your artistry, your experience and knowledge, your apprenticeship and devotion to your craft, your vulnerability, strength, sensuality, and so much more.
You have the power of your humor, the skill of your hands, the delicacy of your senses, your ability to discern and choose, to shape and explore. You have the power of your relationships with allies who love you, who see your beauty and radiance and who lend their gifts and resources to support your unfolding.
All these are gifts of your personhood.
You don’t have to be a goddess to be radiant, luminous, powerful, creative. You don’t have to be a superhero to embrace the project that’s calling you, to give it your love and devotion, to act in a powerful, focused purposeful way to bring it to life.
Being human, you have everything you need, to bring your vision to reality. Your inner resources may be under-developed; they may be primarily seeds or potentials, waiting for you to nurture them so they can come alive.
That’s the beauty of the creative process. By saying Yes to your creation, you nurture your own potentials and grow into the person whose life includes your creation. Making your art nourishes your own development, both as an artist and as a human being.
Ultimately, that’s the task of our lives — to express and embody our humanity.
To embrace all that makes us divinely human — our creative power, our vulnerability, our capacity to choose and shape our stories and the world’s story. Our ability to love, to create beauty and blessing from the ashes of our losses.
Our greatest gift is our capacity to be free, and to cultivate the conditions in which all beings can be free. To be fully, divinely human is to be an instrument of grace, an architect of the world we want to bequeath to the generations that follow us.
We do this, one choice, one creation, one devoted action at a time.
So, how do you take the kind of consistent, daily action that your creative project requires of you?
It’s no good relying on discipline, and berating yourself when it fails. Discipline works, but only as a fire-starter. Discipline and will are limited resources — they cannot fuel your creative fire over the long haul.
Turn your focus away from what you don’t want — procrastination, overwhelm, perfectionism, fear of failure, fear of success, self-doubt and its screeching minions.
Turn your heart and spirit towards your deepest desires, towards what you truly love. Your love and devotion, renewed each day, are far more reliable as fuel for your creative process.
You don’t create your project alone, any more than you created your incarnation alone. You can draw on the love, power, skilled guidance and support of your project’s Deva, and of the subtle-energy beings who are invested in your project’s success. You can lean into the support of a skilled, experienced creative mentor, and a circle of allies who are working on their own creative projects with you.
For now, I wish you a true and abiding love for your own humanity, and respect for the power and dignity of your precious, beautiful life.