Loving Out Loud (part 2)
How Downplaying Our Interests Weakens Our Relationship with Creativity and Each Other
A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the power loving out loud can have in our relationships with one another and with our creativity. This week I’m looking at what happens when we don’t share or when we diminish what we love.
It’s been almost 5 years since I first had the seed of an idea to write a book about creative practice.
One of my first steps on this journey was to enroll in a class with Christianne Squires through her business, Bookwifery. An early exercise in the class was to imagine and write a letter to an imagined reader. It wasn’t a letter we’d send to that person; but the exercise was intended to help focus our purpose for writing the book.
I love letter writing so this task felt very accessible to me, and it just happened that I came across an ideal reader in the course of my work that week.
I visited an organization to lead a community art-making session. As soon as I arrived the administrator for this organization welcomed me warmly and then quickly informed me that she “didn’t have a creative bone in her body.” As part of the staff, she would participate but would not be able to make anything.
I responded that I was glad she was open to exploring and that I hoped she might surprise herself. I also noticed an immediate sense of kinship and connection, of wanting to work with her. I was reminded how in my classes, the most meaningful relationships with participants were often with those who professed not to be creative, but who discovered their own source of creativity in the course of our time together. I was curious to share the experience with her.
As we waited for the gathering, our conversation focused on topics related to art and aesthetics. She was picking out paint for a room and wanted to talk about color: what colors would be peaceful? What was the best way to know how a color would look in different light before choosing it? Each time we would start to talk about a topic she brought up, I would engage briefly before she shut down the conversation, dismissing her interest as not important or worthy of our time. Our conversation proceeded in fits and starts in this way as she helped me set up the room for art making.
It was only later, as I wrote my letter, that I realized how much it was a challenge to connect when she offered her interests and immediately put them down.
Here’s an excerpt from the letter I wrote:
I detect a real depth of caring from you and yet I also hear you put yourself down and downplay your interests. I recognize this because I do it sometimes too. I noticed that hearing this makes me less able to connect with you. I would love to share and connect around your interests and yet when you put them down, I suddenly feel like if I engage, you will think less of me too. Sarcasm and self-deprecating humor can be a tool to show humility, light-heartedness, and to connect in a laugh but it can also mask and hide important deeper caring. Sharing what we care about feels vulnerable; that’s why it helps us connect with others who feel able to show they care when they see the depth of our caring.
At the front of my mind these days is how do we care for and connect with each other? To me shared safe spaces for vulnerability are an important part of this. I find creative practice to be a powerful tool to create these spaces.
When we begin with engagement with materials, exercises, and ideas, it can help each of us to see our thoughts in a new way, gain clarity, and discover ways to share them with others.
The act of creating is courageous and vulnerable and by doing it together, we invite deeper connection and sharing. The group practice helps hold the space for each other, like how a yoga session or a church service holds a space for a group to gather.
Thank you for taking a big step outside your comfort zone to engage with creative practice today. I hope you will continue and share your discoveries as a model for others who will be inspired to share their interests too.
During the art-making session, the administrator found a love for collage and working with color. After the workshop, one of the organization’s leaders wrote to tell me how this participant continued to talk about the experience later in the day, sharing 3 new ideas she wanted to try. The leader wrote, “It is such a joy to watch as someone’s self-image and view of the world expand.”
Reflecting on this story and the letter it inspired, I am reminded of the work we often must do to find the courage to share our interests, to share what we love. The courage creates the space we need for creating and connecting.
As I work on my book, I’m writing for readers who want to share their loves, but may be uncertain of how to do so, perhaps wary of giving themselves permission to do so. But as this story reminds me, there is so much to be gained from trying.
When has sharing what you love felt hard for you? What have you noticed about what happens to your creativity when you muster the courage to share anyway?
I am grateful to those who gather here as readers to share creative community and welcome all that you share from your journeys as well.
With a grateful heart,
Kathryn
Thanks Kathryn, I have felt it hard to share sometimes my voice and wisdom, through collages or written word, or speaking up at the office. When I do share my truth it allows me to be present and like you said connect and be vulnerable so others can learn more about me and see my passion for things like nature!
So timely as I consider what to put in or leave out of a book of poetry I am working on 🙏