 I'm currently sitting at a hotel in Providence, Rhode Island. Here for a weekend to celebrate the wedding of a dear family friend, I snuck into a sunlit, atrium-style banquet room in search of a few quiet moments alone. I tried two other spots in the hotel, but there was no quiet to be found. Suffice it to say, few things annoy me more than unsupervised youth sports teams in a hotel. Enough said.
The past few weeks I have been in a frenetic season of tackling projects which have raised my personal bar creatively, inspired my heart to believe in the impossible, and crushed my spirit in ways I didn't see coming. Such is the life of a professional creative. The highs and lows of the business I work in are what keep me going back in the writing room day after day, and simultaneously what cause me to quit my job at least once a week. This road is not for the faint of heart. A few weeks ago I led a group of creatives through a 30 Days of Hopeful Creativity online adventure. The plan was to gather people together who share a desire to make art in pursuit of hope, from a place of hope, for the purpose of giving hope to others. I love creatives and one of the things I think I've been put on this earth to do is to encourage them to keep chasing whatever creative dreams they have, regardless of result or reward. I would like to tell you that to encourage others was my sole reason for taking people on this 30-day adventure, but selfishly, I also wanted a reason to put my "pen to the page", day after day, every day for 30 days. I needed the personal accountability and I also thought it might be a start of another creative project I've been wanting to tackle. So off we went. I met some lovely people, hopefully encouraged them to keep doing what they do, and I met my personal goal of writing something every day. I'm happy to say that as I look to the next few months, my calendar looks to be filled with doing more of what I love. For the first time in my adult life, I wake up every morning and get to walk into my office / writing room and work on creative projects I am passionate about. I am 56 years old, friends, and this is the first time I've been able to make this creative life work, full time. It ain't all roses and butterflies, though. A lot of it is hours of slogging through muddy waters of administrative crap, fighting off dragons of discouragement and defeat, and being confronted by my personal demons and downfalls. But there are also moments of unexplainable inspiration, the sweetest fellowship of collaboration, and the occasional celebratory mountaintop experience. Some days I face everything I've listed here in a 24-hour span. It is the wildest of rides. The personal sacrifices one makes to live this professional creative life are significant. And I'm not just talking about my own. My family has lived it too. We've walked the road of financial sacrifice, the expense of time and energy, and possibly the most costly sacrifice, the emotional toll the successes and failures have taken on me personally, which have unavoidably marked my family in ways I both regret and hope they are lessons from which we all learn. Before you think I'm being overdramatic, let me say this: I am well aware that what I've just described to you in this paragraph is a cake walk compared to the sufferings and sacrifices some people have to face every single day, either in their profession, or just in their everyday lives. Which is exactly my point. Please read on... My gratitude meter looks a whole lot different now than it did a few years ago. Cancer will do that to a person. Any deeply difficult experience will do that to you if you let it. You find yourself with a perspective you never wanted, but it's one you wouldn't trade for anything in the world, because you now have a choice that is crystal clear. Yes, I do believe it's a choice to remain grateful. To choose it every stinkin' day. To say to myself, "Today, you get to do what you love. You get to walk into a room and make stuff up. ('Cause that's what writers do.) You get to find a way to confront obstacles, battle enemies, attempt to discover new ways to claw your way out of a deep, dark, pit, and create art that you hope and pray will one day make a difference. Maybe not for millions of people. Maybe not for hundreds of people. Maybe not for ten people. Maybe for only one person. But today, you get to do that, Gina, and that's a good day, no matter how you look at it. So press on and do your thing." I have had to give myself that little pep talk more days than I care to admit. But I do it because when I tell myself to keep going, my hope is renewed. I regain my footing. I see my purpose. Hopeful Creative isn't simply a blog title or fluffy slogan I thought up. It is a perspective I have fought for. It is a badge I have earned and wear proudly. It is a weapon I want to give others, knowing they'll need it to fight the dragons I know well. Because if we don't have hope, what do we have, really? The alternative - despair - makes for a pretty lonely existence. So here's to tomorrows. Here's to possibilities. Here's to jumping into the deep end and learning to swim. Here's to butts in chairs doing the work. Here's to believing art matters. Here's to creating with hope. P.S. Hopeful Creative will be ramping up a bit in the next few weeks/months. I'm excited to share it with you. Stay tuned...
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