Each one of us contains an endless, immeasurable supply of magic. There is a creative fire in all of us; if you are human and alive, you are creative. Sometimes the fire roars loudly, impossible to contain. Other times, it is barely a flicker. But it never goes out; it cannot go out.
It is this fire—this creative force within us all— that the world is always crying out for. The difficulty is that that flame can be shy, and elusive. The search for the fire within us is rarely an easy one.
The decision to begin sharing my words with the world after 15 years of keeping them to myself was one that came with a great deal of rumination.
I have always been a solitary chap. My Saturday afternoons are, wherever possible, spent alone, walking and thinking. Saturday nights are then spent writing, cooking, and often dancing around the house like an idiot to a carefully selected playlist. By mid-morning on Sunday, I’m generally ready and eager to reconnect with the world.
I need extremely little to be extremely happy. Give me an afternoon walk, some life changing music, one or two beautiful humans, a notebook and some alone time, and I’m set for life. I’ll not only be happy, but I’ll be creative. I’ll actually contribute.
In spite of this, for some reason I’ve found my own desire to begin sharing words with the world quite surprising. When writing for myself, all of my personal fulfilment boxes were ticked. Why did I need to throw a spanner in the works by considering publishing, even on a personal blog? What is the point of vulnerably pushing words in front of people and hoping they’ll appreciate them? It didn’t quite make sense.
But it ran deeper, and it wouldn’t go away. Once I had firmly established the existence of my desire to openly share my words, many questions began bombarding me at once. Was I trying to satisfy some deep psychological need here? Was I trying to help the world? Did I secretly have grand notions of trying to save the world? Were my words even good enough to have a chance at helping anyone? Do I actually have the gusto to do this?
The much needed realisation.
The above questions ruminated in my mind for far too long. They could well have stopped me before I’d started (and sadly, for many who wish to share their creativity with the world, this happens often).
But, the truth is that we all have creative gifts that are trying to escape us. When I think about all the incredible ideas that are never fulfilled; the countless books, films, shows, songs, symphonies, paintings, inventions, discoveries, scientific breakthroughs and whatever else that never had their moment, and as a result the world missed out on, I feel sick.
The thought that really scares me: What if the idea that the world needs most right now is stuck in the mind of someone who can not or will not choose to act on it? What if the cure for cancer is trapped within the mind of someone who cannot afford a medical degree?
Of course, creativity is first and foremost meant to be soul-nourishing, magical, and just plain-fucking-fun. If for any reason, someone chooses not to share their creativity with the world, then that is their choice and no-one elses.
However, at the very least, we must attempt to locate the burning fire within, lest we find ourselves forever plagued by the unknown. We must all joyfully and fiercely strive to unleash the magic, in whatever form it may take. The key to a fun, rich, fulfilled creative life lies not necessarily within the final discovery of the ‘fire magic’ within (which, make no mistake, exists in us all) but rather, within the search itself.
Whether or not writing is the most efficient path to my own personal source of magic, I am unsure; it’s too early to tell. But that’s the whole point. We can each do little more than go with what feels right, and learn as we go.
In the fog, in the flame by Bec Sandridge
Images provided by StockSnap