That's how I feel about my creativeness and ability to give lately. I find it ironic considering I just got back from places where the fruits of creativity surrounded me at every turn. I had moment after moment in front of monumental works of art that I've waited my whole life to see. Pieces of art that literally changed the world were right there to touch me.
And they did. Their beauty and power permeated my tough skin and sank into my heart, to be written on its fleshy tables. But the conversation stopped there. Usually I have something to say, to give in return. Usually I'm inspired and thoughts and feelings flow from me instead of just into me.
But here I am, days after my trip and each time I sit down to write or think or give, I come up dry. The answer as to why has come to me in bits and pieces and here it is: I have nothing to give because all I have has been put back into myself.
Over the past six months I've lived a particularly self-centered existence. I had huge decisions to make and in an effort to keep my sanity and pass my classes while making them, I gave myself all that I had. And by doing so, the amount I was able to give slowly diminished until here I am, with a dry soul (and ironically an extremely dry throat). This scripture never rang so true.
As I settle into this summer, which may prove to be my last spent in sleepy little Provo, I find myself beginning to be ready to give. I have the chance to take care of myself and the ones that I love and most importantly: to give even when I don't feel like it. Because as I do, I feel my capacity to give and to create grow hundredfold.
beginning anew,
M
1 comment:
Beautiful post my dear. Perhaps that is my problem as well? Hmmm ... great food for thought. Love you!
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