Serving the Creative by Holding Space for Others to Create

Several people around me are writing songs, composing music, writing poetry, much of it seemingly spontaneous, and I’m . . . not. 

A wee little part of me leftover from decades ago is just a bit rattled, because creativity is part of my identity, part of who I believe I am. If I’m not creating, I’m not me. So wtf is up with all these other people making stuff when I’m not making stuff?

Well, I’ve been making plenty of stuff, and recently, too. But right now, I’m holding space for other people who are in a creative upswing by offering a listening ear, helping with chord-spelling, offering feedback when asked, making suggestions about how to make a transition smoother here or punchier there, and generally being a nourishing presence.

I’m good at presence.

It’s hugely important for creatives to be close to a nourishing presence, someone who will hold the space for them to create in. Otherwise we end up burning ourselves out, fast and hard, trying to hold the space and do the creating all at once. It works, but boy it’s not easy. Sometimes holding the space for someone means getting out of their way. Sometimes it means giving permission to not do something else they’ve got on their to-do list that might seem important in an obligatory, small-picture way. Sometimes it means offering a word or two of encouragement to someone who finds it hard to take time for themselves to do something so unproductive as write a poem.

But it is the opposite of unproductive, and pulling back to a big-picture perspective, writing a poem (or a song or doing any kind of art) is an act of human expression, emotional resonance, pure creative love. It’s a small act of rebellion against the weight of the world. It’s a bright pebble thrown into a midnight lake.

It’s the most important thing a human can do.

Being the space holder is kind of like being a priestess in an ancient temple (men can be priestesses, too). It’s about being a vessel to hold inspiration, or being in service to a force. Creativity is a force, like any other force, including Goddesses and Gods. There have been numerous deities associated with creativity, including Brighid, Minerva, Athena, Kvasir, Lugh, Ogma, Thoth, Coyote, Anansi . . . and those are just the ones I can list without even thinking about it.

Creativity is a sacred thing, because it connects us intimately to both our deepest roots and our highest selves. Holding space for someone while they create, by making tea or setting a sandwich somewhere close or picking up a couple of their chores, is a holy act of devotion to the force itself. If we serve those who are creating, we will become more creative. Give a little, get a lot. By relinquishing the creative spotlight, or allowing someone else unfettered and uninterrupted access to the sacred flame, we accrue credits in our own karmic creativity accounts.

Westerners have been programmed, especially us Puritan-descended Americans, to work work work work work and work some more. Art is a luxury. Other people write and play the music and we buy it to listen to while we work. Other people write books which we buy intending to read but between working and working we never get around to it. Original works of art are things corporate buyers hang on the office walls to inspire us to work harder.

This is all very calculated on the part of the corporate wankers who think they run us.

Creativity is a liability. People who are awake enough to have the ability to express deep and passionate ideas, longings or epiphanies do not make good drones for the capitalist hive. They want us to live in service to the mighty dollar, so they bulldozed the Temple to Creativity to make room for a new telemarketing center.

But we instinctively know better than that, even if we pretend we don’t. We know we feel better when we take a ten minute poetry break, or go to a drum circle, or take a dance class, or go to a community sing. We feel connected and in balance and empowered. So why don’t we do more of that? Some of us do. Why do they get to have all the fun?

Because, darling, they allow themselves to be as human as they want to be. They have found a way to get space held for them so they can fill that space with something creative. If you want it, all you have to do is say to the Multiverse, “I want space to be more creative,” and look the fuck out because the Multiverse will deliver. Suddenly, a chunk of time that has been lurking unnoticed in a corner of your calendar will become visible, or a resource you didn’t know you had for transportation or child care will show up at your front door.

Take the space with heartfelt gratitude, and fill it with something wonderful. Paint, write, drum, dance, throw pots, chant, take guitar lessons, join a choir, try out for a play . . . Whatever intensifies your flame. Witness yourself becoming calmer and happier. Pay attention to how it feels when the stress leaves your body. Hold on to the feelings of satisfaction and accomplishment that come from doing something you love simply for the sake of doing it. Give yourself the gift of being the most yourself you can be, and enjoy the crap out of it.

Don’t do it because you want to be the best–do it because you want to be your best.

 Creativity is powerfully healing, but so many of us struggle to find our creative voice. There are many tools to help seekers find their way, and I would love to see you bloom. Let’s get started! 

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