MAKE SOMETHING

I have always liked making things – little bundles of sticks and stones and feathers, “spirit dolls”, collage, drawings made with my eyes closed, pot-holders, little altars, cakes, parties, poems….  I firmly believe that making anything is very important.  Even and maybe especially if what you make has no obvious “use”.  The fact of making something and putting it into the world is a spiritual practice I’m pretty sure.  Something that never existed until you made it – is an act of creation.  Even if no one else ever sees it, you might be changed by your own creativity.  Daring to enter the world of the unknown is not a light task. It requires a trust of sorts and a confidence and a measure of “not caring” what the product looks like.  Here’s a poem I wrote this week about this;   Happy creating this week!!

MAKE SOMETHING

Make anything

and it will

change you;

a painting, a cake, a poem,

an impromptu dance, a prayer, a theory,

a doodle, a letter, a paper hat.

Oh, to put something into the world

that wasn’t there before.

An act of creation—

you can be a little god.

You can set the constellations spinning.

Even a scribble

that has never existed

until you made it,

can be a gift –

can bring a smile –

can let your spirit off its leash.

Make something.

even if no-one sees or hears

or appreciates.  Something

inside you might learn to applaud

or smile, or cry

because you dared to enter

the world of the unknown.

~Penny Hackett-Evans

And here is a poem by Chelan Harkin about the same topic;

THE THING THAT MAKES YOUR HEART SING

~Chelan Harkin” from the book Let Us Dance

The thing that makes

your heart sing

might be quirky as hell,

it might not do anything for capitalism,

no one might buy it.

You’ve probably written this thing off

countless times

for those reasons

and because you probably should

do the dishes or something more practical

like that instead.

But this thing that make your heart sing

is the thing inside of you that most wants

to topple your kingdom of should

that wants deeply and burningly

to be prioritized

and for no particular reason

but that it brings so much light.

It wants to look you straight in the eye

and say, “Let’s do this, baby!”

even if it’s drilling holes in seashells and stringing them to

fishing line,

even if it’s drawing anatomical pictures of a flower

with great care that are never meant

to be hung in an art gallery

but to be pressed

into the precious pages of your heart,

even if it’s making a new kind of cookie

each week

and devouring them with relish on your couch

by yourself,

a sweet sacrament

just meant to share

with your taste buds.

This thing that makes your heart sing

will resurrect parts of your life

and restore a sacred nutrient

to your days.

It can be muted

but never silenced.

If you’re not sure what it is,

just listen for the reoccurring whispers

in your chest

of that flame that will not die.

The paradox is this:

while the thing itself might seem simple.

this thing that makes

your heart sing

will create luminosity

so bright

you’ll be the envy

of all the stars

and they’ll want to jump into

your body

to feel it.