The Power of Creativity to Transform

A couple weekends ago I found myself alone in the house with time and solitude to do whatever I wanted. On the rare occasion that happens, I get giddy trying to decide which self-indulgent experience will be most fulfilling— reading a book, organizing my closet or taking a nap.

That Saturday, my heart urged me to paint a canvas, a decadent expression of creativity I hadn’t done for a long time. Every spare moment I’ve had recently has been dedicated to writing my memoir. (Oh, and our one-year-old puppy, Moki, who turned our lives upside down with lots of love, chaos and potty training.)

I don’t paint to sell the art or impress other people. I do it for me. I relish getting lost in the color, the movement of the brush and allowing my brain to stop thinking and just be in the moment.

The idleness is liberating, healing and enables fresh ideas to percolate.

I don’t have a studio. I simply set up an easel in our kitchen and plunk a bunch of towels on the ground to protect our floors from the splatter.

I typically paint abstracts because I don’t have the skill or patience to create something literal like a face, dog or mountain scene. I work with acrylics and use colors I’m drawn to.

For this canvas, I chose green for the background because it makes me happy. It looks vibrant and alive, just like the season of spring that is upon us. I added a little pink here, a touch of blue and light green there.

I was first exposed to painting nearly 20 years ago by Laurie Maves, a contemporary artist who lived in Denver at the time. A couple of her paintings decorate the walls of my home. (She now offers coaching and mentoring to people who want to BE FREE via the creative process, and I’d encourage you to check out her Substack to learn more.)

Back then was a challenging time for me. It was few months after I agreed to leave my dream job as a television news anchor to support my husband’s career. I didn’t think I was leaving my profession of choice forever, but I also didn’t realize how much of my identity was linked to my work and the role I played in the community.

Our twins were almost five years old. While being their primary caregiver was important and filled my heart, there were parts of me that were unfulfilled, bored and longing for more.

Hoping to spark some relief, my life coach and friend Tammy Cunningham invited me to join her at Laurie’s studio to paint for the day. Before this, the closest thing I’d done to art was finger painting with the kids. The idea of me painting seemed absurd but it also sounded fun, adventurous and liberating.

I recall asking Laurie, “So, what do I paint?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Pick out some colors and then let yourself go. It’ll come to you.” She brought me a wooden board that was about two feet wide and four feet tall.

I didn’t have any idea what to create. So, of course, I went with an abstract.

At first, I was tentative. Awkward. But then something inside me shifted and I allowed my hand and body to flow, moving the paintbrush up and down in swirls and strokes. Soon, I became breathless from the excitement of creating in hues of red, green, blue and yellow.

We worked for a couple of hours. Except for a few breaks when we’d move across the room to get a peek at what everyone else was doing, we were each in our own world.

The experience was more than a magical escape. It was transformative. I felt a release of tension that I didn’t know I had been carrying. I realized I had a smile on my face, and I felt like I was radiating a beautiful light.

Those few short hours returned some passion I’d been craving in my life as a young mom.

My soul was again singing!

I reflect on that remarkable day, that memory, any time I pull out a blank canvas. I am grateful to have been exposed to this form of self-expression.

These days when so many of us are moving fast and often have our eyes tuned to one screen or another, I wonder if we’re missing out on the simplicity and joy that comes from the act of creating.

Whether it’s writing, playing an instrument, cooking or planting your flowerpots. What’s so enriching about these exercises is that we get out of our heads and let our hearts dictate what happens next. It taps a part of our spirit longing to be released.

You don’t have to be an expert or pretend to be perfect at it. We all have a creative side, and while some may appear more gifted than others that shouldn’t prevent the rest of us from trying. In fact, the messier, less defined and vague creations might hold the most meaning for you.

The next time you have a free moment, I challenge you to do something different that stretches your boundaries and is something just for you.

Not because you’re good at it or needing to be productive, but because it makes you feel alive.

I’d love to hear what you unlock for yourself or even see what you create.