l'ho già detto, sono cresciuta a pane e non sei capace di. poi ho letto Dyer e mi son cambiata la vita. tra i tanti cambiamenti c'è stato il mio avvicinamento alla creatività, smettendo di pensare di essere un'incapace e anche di credere che si dovesse anelare alla perfezione oppure lasciar perdere.
quando sono approdata qui mi ero appena affacciata al mondo delle mamme creative (che in rete pullulano). e mi son lasciata ispirare e contagiare.
nella categoria creative mood al momento ci sono 30 post, eppure sarebbero molti di più se io non avessi messo un freno. forse anche due.
mi spiego.
il primo freno l'ho messo al creare. come spesso mi è accaduto in passato, ogni volta che scoprivo un nuovo ambito creativo (i giochi di carta, il feltro, il cucito ecc. ecc.), finivo per buttarmi solo in quello. avevo del tempo libero ed era il momento d'oro del punto festone? e io cucivo. era quello della carta? io ritagliavo. e così via. nel momento in cui mi sono resa consapevole del fatto che il momento creativo stava diventando compulsivo ho detto stop. perché per me una compulsione è una ricerca smodata di compensazione: si riempie ostinatamente un vuoto per non vedere il vuoto stesso. o forse ben altro. almeno, io la vivo così.
il che non significa affatto che io abbia smesso di creare. ho semplicemente smesso di farlo in modo compulsivo e quindi per me inappropriato. perché mi sono accorta che mettere al primo posto il soddisfacimento della mia esigenza creativa, mi sottraeva energie per altro, ad esempio. e, soprattutto, che il creare in quel modo altro non era che una fuga da qualcos'altro, spesso da una realtà che, in quel momento, non avevo voglia di vedere o di affrontare.
il secondo freno l'ho messo al pubblicare. fondamentalmente perché mi sarei sentita autoappiccicata addosso l'etichetta di mamma creativa. e non volevo (e non voglio) esser solo quello. poi vabbè, un po' mi sono chiesta : perché lo fai? ossia, perché lo pubblichi? e la risposta che mi sono data era molto vicina alla ricerca dell'altrui approvazione. altra zona erronea di cui mi sono liberata grazie a dyer, dentro alla quale mi guardo bene dal voler ricascare.
e poi, diciamocelo, adesso che ho due (di numero) lettori uomini di cui vado anche parecchio fiera (e che, peraltro, qualcuno mi invidia, mi dicono), mica li posso tediare con questioni di mero taglio e cucito, no?
e invece.
e invece ultimamente sto pensando che forse potrei riprendere a pubblicare della mia creatività con uno scopo ben preciso: aiutare gli altri. ossia, trasmettere il messaggio a chi, come me, è stato cresciuto a pane e non sei capace di, che nella vita si può cambiare e si può e ci si deve mettere in gioco. sempre. per crescere e andare avanti.
ho detto forse, eh?
ma se così dovesse essere, spero che i due uomini di cui sopra se ne facciano una ragione e mi sopportino ugualmente.
detto questo, posso tornare tranquillamente a cucire.
detto questo, posso tornare tranquillamente a cucire.
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singlemamafranny - all rights reserved
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I have already said, I grew up on bread and you are not able to. Then I read Dyer and I changed my life. Among
the many changes there was my approach to creativity, by ceasing
to think of being inadequate and also to believe that we should strive for
perfection or leave it. When I arrived here I was just looking out to the world of creative mothers (who swarm in the net). And I let them inspire and infect me. In my category creative mood at the moment there are 30 posts, but there would be many more if I had not put a brake. Maybe even two.
I'll explain.
I'll explain.
First of all I put a brake to creativity. As
it often happened to me in the past, every time I discovered a new
creative sphere (paper games, felt, sewing and so on), I ended up just
throwing myself into that. I had some free time and it was the golden moment of blanket stitch? I sewed. Was it the one of paper? I cut out. And so on. As soon as I became aware that the creative moment was becoming compulsive I said stop. Because for me a compulsion is an excessive pursuit of compensation: one stubbornly fills voids for not wanting to see the vacuum itself. Or maybe something else. At least that's how I live it.
This does not imply that I have ceased to create. I simply stopped doing it compulsively and for me in an inappropriate way. Because I realized that while putting in the first place the fulfillment of my creative needs, I subtracted energy to something else, for example. And, above all, I saw that creating in that way was nothing but an escape from something else, often from a reality that, at that time, I did not want to see or to face.
The second brake was put to publishing what I had created. I did it basically because I would have self labeled me as a creative mom. And I did not want (and still do not want) to be just that. Then I did it because I had asked myself: why do you do it? ie, why do you publish it? And the answer I could give me was very close to the search of other people's approval. Another erroneous zone that I had released thanks to Dyer, inside of which I am far from wishing to go back.
Last but not least, let's face it, now that I have two male readers of which I am also quite proud (and that, moreover, some envy me, I'm told), I do not want to bore them with mere cutting and sewing, right?
And instead.
On the other hand I'm thinking that maybe I could resume publication of my creative results with a purpose: to help others. ie, in order to transmit the message to those who, like me, were raised on bread and you are not able to, that in life you can change. And that you can and you must enter into play. Always. To grow and to move forward.
I said maybe, huh?
But if it should be, I sincerely hope that the two men will bear me and read me anyway.
Now, having said that, I can safely go on sewing.
This does not imply that I have ceased to create. I simply stopped doing it compulsively and for me in an inappropriate way. Because I realized that while putting in the first place the fulfillment of my creative needs, I subtracted energy to something else, for example. And, above all, I saw that creating in that way was nothing but an escape from something else, often from a reality that, at that time, I did not want to see or to face.
The second brake was put to publishing what I had created. I did it basically because I would have self labeled me as a creative mom. And I did not want (and still do not want) to be just that. Then I did it because I had asked myself: why do you do it? ie, why do you publish it? And the answer I could give me was very close to the search of other people's approval. Another erroneous zone that I had released thanks to Dyer, inside of which I am far from wishing to go back.
Last but not least, let's face it, now that I have two male readers of which I am also quite proud (and that, moreover, some envy me, I'm told), I do not want to bore them with mere cutting and sewing, right?
And instead.
On the other hand I'm thinking that maybe I could resume publication of my creative results with a purpose: to help others. ie, in order to transmit the message to those who, like me, were raised on bread and you are not able to, that in life you can change. And that you can and you must enter into play. Always. To grow and to move forward.
I said maybe, huh?
But if it should be, I sincerely hope that the two men will bear me and read me anyway.
Now, having said that, I can safely go on sewing.
