The Heart of Creativity

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I've been doing these Adventures in Green Living for about a month now and as I have been my creativity has been booming. That's why I started it.

Confession Time: Before I began writing these, I was feeling burnt out. My loyal friends and some followers could probably notice by some of the things I'd shared.

Life is draining. Life in winter can be even more so, but isn't that how the seasons work. We have times of drought where inspiration and spiritual wellness is sparse. Then here comes the spring. Like the first bout of lightening striking the Earth to fill it with  nitrogen to spark the birth of new seedlings. So a burst of inspiration must be set forth in the human mind and body to produce the life of new creativity. Hence has been my Adventures in Green Living.

Each project produces a realm of more ideas. More thoughts about what can I make with this? Or how can I make that?

I am a believer in creation. Maybe it's because I'm a creative type, but I believe that creativity is one of God's doorways of expressing himself through human beings. Creativity is the meeting of humanity and divinity. Creativity is prayer.

This may be the noticing of creation. Ann Voskamp in her book One Thousand Gifts declares this as Eucharist Deo, or the giving of thanks. It is seeing the hand of God and giving thanks.

It may be in creation itself, when we empty our minds to hear God's voice and declare its truth. This in Meditation and Prayer, aligning our hearts with his.

Creativity is the work of Prayer. Creative living is a prayerful life, where we take the time to notice and interact with God.

I've started meeting with some friends for a creativity group and last night we watched a Ted Talk with Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love. And she talked about how in this century, with the evolution of post-modern thought, we have neglected the concept that creativity is outside of us. The ancients believed that all expressions of creativity were the expressions of a higher power being made manifest through human encounter. She continued to talk about how upon the viewing of a play or performance, when struck with the awe of creativity, the ancients would yell "Alla!Alla!" Meaning God. This later, through immigration and cross culture in Spain became "Ole!" which we hear declared in all sorts of cheers.

With post modern thought we have forgotten God, which has lead all the pressure for creativity to be upon the artist. He is responsible to produce out of his own mind. Not merely be an observer and tool of divinity.

As I continue to explore creative living and making it a part of my prayer life, this is my goal: that I may experience God more fully. You'll be occasionally seeing me post more about this as I continue exploring with my creative friends. However, my challenge is to see God. To seek to be in his presence. As David, maybe the greatest Biblical artists "One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek, that I may dwell in the house of the Lord forever, to gaze upon his beauty" Psalm 27:4.
I want to be like David. I want to dwell in the presence. I want to live in creativity. I want to experience God in my all day everyday.

So here's to a new adventure, or maybe not new, but continually growing and evolving, to understand what it means to walk with Jesus.

Wrestling with the Easter Bunny

Romans 8:39 "neither heights, nor depths, nor anything in all creation can separate use from the Love of God found in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Easter is the time of year where little girls get dressed in frilly, colored dresses. We buy boys miniature grey suits and baby blue bow-ties and we call this "our Sunday best." We fill up baskets with "grass" the color of the rainbow and send our children off too look for eggs supposedly hidden by a gigantic rabbit that we took pictures with at the mall last week.

At the core it has remained a family holiday, even if we throw out the death and resurrection, lent which precedes both, and even before that, Passover. And it seems, like Christmas, we've forgotten the true meaning. Yet, recently I feel like I'm more able to relate to the fuzzy bunny holiday than the celebration of my salvation.

It's easy to feel far from God.

Anyone that lives in this busy world knows the struggle of trying to make-ends-meet and still follow God whole heartedly. There's that ever present tension, where we're striving to stop to say our morning prayers, yet still win the race of making it to work on time.

This goes out to all the 20-somethings struggling to figure out what it means to live in "the real world," every-one who works the glorious human services schedules, and all those who struggle to hear God's voice.

I took my job, praying Lord use me. Knowing that even if I missed church, there is something to be said of "caring for the least of these," and "walking alongside orphans." So I prayed "Lord use me. Teach me to pray in the moment, not just when I carve it out in my schedule. Teach me to feel your presence, even when time slips through my fingers to bask in it. Be my guide." I'm still praying.

It's hard working a One-Sunday-off-a-month schedule. It's hard to know where you sit with God when you don't have a preacher reminding you every week. It's hard to pray and remind yourself where you sit with God when most days you're surrounded by situations that challenge his existence.

However, through these time of loneliness, struggle, and testing our faith is made stronger. In times when I am discouraged I've been learning to cling to this verse:

"neither heights nor depths, nor anything that is in all creation will separate us from the love of God found in Christ Jesus our Lord" Romans 8:39.

And as Linus to Charlie Brown: That is the real meaning of Easter.

When my life feels like a circus of juggling a job against my spiritual life. When I'm really not sure where I stand in this great scheme of life. When Easter has become simply a rabbits feet and candy. That's when I remember that I am loved.

Despite the challenges. Despite the struggle, I am loved more than I can ever imagine. And when I remember how much I am loved in the midst of chaos, that is when my faith is made stronger, because God reaches down to remind me he is still there.

Happy Easter Season. It's coming just next week. Remember, no matter your situation. No matter how you feel, you are loved. And that is the true meaning of Easter.

Within Limits

I have my limits. I am a woman. I'm white. I'm twenty-something. I have anxiety...just to name a few. And I struggle. I feel like I'm consistently on the struggle bus of striving to be strong enough, yet feminine enough, culturally-sensitive-and-non-offensive-enough, competent enough, and all the while striving to ensure that it doesn't seem like my struggles confine me. Praying that maybe someday it would seem that i am limitless and have transcended the struggle. The struggle is real.

I found this TED Talk yesterday, and decided I needed to share my thoughts on it. I know, shocker, because I never blog anymore. However, I new i needed to reflect on this, and decided maybe my thoughts might encourage someone else in knowing I'm their seat-buddy on the struggle bus. I wasn't sure what exactly my thoughts on it were at first. However, after a day of reflecting, embracing, letting-go, grasping, and repeatedly struggling with my limitations I came to my end. I am challenged to change.

I feel like this is the reflective challenge I make in every single one of my posts. Maybe that's why I've stopped writing for so long. However, though I feel challenged to change. Not new. Futhermore, I'm feeling challenged to change my perspective. Also, not new. However, maybe where I've gone wrong before is in what I perceive to be the goal. I feel like in my daily walk of perfectionistic tendencies, I'm always striving to be better. Be more. Develop. Grow. I don't want to stay the same, making the same mistakes. So I push my self to eat a little healthier, move a little more, fine-tune my resume. And I get caught in the balance of thriving and failing where I strive. If it's not in the physical sense, it's in the mental sense where I find myself striving to change my perspective. Take every thought captive. See the joy. Be thankful. And as my flaws get in the way I stumble and find myself back on the struggle bus.

This is where I found myself as I watched this video. The thought slowly began to creep in my head: what if I'm ok? What if my limits (these things that feel like prison walls I'm consistently trying to escape) are actually my road to freedom?

I pause.
Reflect.

In the words of Elizabeth Gilbert: "Ruin is the road to restoration."

I breathe.
Sigh.
I'm OK.

My circumstances do not define me nearly as much as what I do with them. Like an artist viewing a canvas as an end, so I have been making my limits a handicap. Yet an artist is not bound by a border, instead he lets his creativity flow with what he has. He does not look at the tools he has been given and sigh in frustration. Instead he looks in wonder at the possibilities and gets to work at extracting beauty from the ashes. So I refrain. Looking at the seemingly ashes of my own life, I lay down my confines and embrace the possibilities.

I am a woman. I am often emotional. I cry often. I struggle between the balance of trying to be strong, yet being feminine. I struggle, because I walk along side little girls who have had the unfathomable thrust upon them, because they are little girls.

I am white and though I am the majority at large, on many personal occasions I am the minority. Being from the country, having limited Spanish. I AM country. I know absolutely nothing about being a inner-city black kid from East St. Paul. And when I hang out with my Latino friends I have absolutely NO idea what is going on.

I am a twenty-something with anxiety. I, again, get emotional. I struggle to appear competent, yet not appear to think I know everything. Afraid I said to much or said to little. Full of life decisions. I'm told to relax and enjoy the moment, but the real world is a big place with insurance, taxes, and bills. Overwhelmed? Yes.

I know my limits, and at time they seem overwhelming. An most of the time I am working to overcome. I want to transcend, but maybe the secret to freedom is not in escaping, but embracing. As I let go of my expectations for what I should be, and begin to hold loosely the limits given to me, I find them grow and expand until I see them more clearly. Holding in both hands and owning what I have been given, I see that my tools cannot change, but with them I can create.

 I can create beauty and a home. I can share my opinions and thoughts, and though it may not always be with my voice and words, I can hold my head up high and I can live. A life that is not defeated by the storms, but instead is made stronger. I can be a shelter to others, a rock for others as the Lord is my rock. And I can love despite the struggle, in the midst of adversity, it the midst of darkness I can show love to the least of these. I may not always understand, and may not speak into a situation, but hugs are not given with words. The present of presence is sometimes the greatest gift of all. So I will be present with everything I have.

Limits do not define us. What defines us is what we make of them, so I plan to make the most of them. 

Grace and thanks

When was the last time I counted my blessings? Earlier this year I was reading a book all about this subject and how gratitude has the power to bring healing to our lives. With in just a few short months I seem to have forgotten every lesson learned. Though still in my head, it has taken a toll trying to transcend into my heart. It's a discipline, to write, to think: What are the blessings on my door step? I forget that only I have the power to see the good in my life. But not  just to look at my life, but to see the good in others. One step at a time. Counting my blessings. I've been struggling to do this. But I'm going to make a point. Before every meal, to stop, breathe, center myself and say thanks. When I was little we said "grace" before meals. But isn't that what gratitude is, saying the graces that are brought into our lives? When we see the light, the world doesn't seem so dark. I'm choosing thankfulness. 

relationship and representation

I've really been getting into these podcast devotionals by 3dm ministries (seriously, if you haven't heard them, look them up) and in the past month we've been going through the book of Luke,  taking it step by step, discovering how it applies to our lives.
Bouncing off the idea of having grace for one another and grace for ourselves,  today I was listening to Luke 6 and they brought up the idea of relationship vs. Religion. I grew up in church, so trust me when I say I'm familiar with the age old debate of "my faith is not religion it is relationship." However,  how often do I actually stop and think about what that means. Am I just spewing words that match my dogma or am I living in a way that emanates a life walking with Christ.

I was talking with someone dear to my heart today and they were telling me their story of how they had grown up in a very strict religious structure, set with rules with what it means to be a follower of Christ. It could not be denied that members of this faith tradition were followers in every way they knew how, but they struggled to live up to the standard that was dictated to them.

The tradition I grew up in so often strives to bycombat affiliation with these rules and regulations to religion that they find the word religion offensive. If anyone were to suggest they were apart of a "religious group" again they would spat "it's not about religion, but relationship" still they have a list of things they won't do, won't go, won't say, not because it's sin, but because abstaining will supposedly keep you from sinning.   So similar to the brothers they are ready to condemn.

Even in my own life I have my list of should and should nots,  because somewhere along the line a seed was planted saying something is wrong. So I follow without question, though I'm given no answer of the truth behind the laws of my life.

And when I slip up, as I do often, I am condemned, as are all the other religion or nonreligious types. Overwhelmed by the weight of my tightly wound standard that sinches up the loopholes of the gospel, I find myself choking on what I thought was supposed to give me life...and life to the fullest.

Meanwhile I hear the still small voice whisper, it really is about relationship.  In my mind I think I am living in the light of relationship,  but truth be told, I am still harnessing a noose of rules. And as I do, I feel my Papas hands loosening the rope to say, this is not life. He welcomes and says come get to know me. Do not fret about the should and should nots. Instead spend time in my presence and when the time is right I will show you what to do. The more we spend time in his presence, the stronger the relationship, and the better able we are to represent him.
And yea, at times it may appear that we are living to "that standard" However it will come from a heart of knowing what's right, knowing the heart of the one we repreaent. And the rest we can let go.
The better I know my Papa, the better I can make him known. No rules, no regulations, simply relationship and representation.  

Grace for Self and Others

I was sitting on the beach the other day, spending some time with Papa. After a busy weekend of friends, time off (which generally means a slew of social interactions and no alone time), art fest, church, etc. etc. ironically I had had no time with the Lord (just me and the Lord that is). So desiring desperately to work on my tan before my brother's wedding, I hit the beach. 

I found a spot between two other ladies, they said it was empty. I laid out my colorful blanket I got in India last year, and simply laid there. The sun laying soft kisses upon my skin as the sand cradled my body. I was wrapped in the essence of bliss as I finally...relaxed. The pressure of perfection finally easing as I...released...every...care....breathing. I wrote earlier this week about how bad I've become about this simple practice, and in this moment realized that I had slipped back into my regular patterns of inability for respiration. Stress and anxiety steadily choking out my ability to breathe, now I was uncoiling the nerves from around my neck to simply be. 

From the waters edge I overheard the conversation between a child and his mother, regarding his brother, Summit: 

Kiddo: Summit! Summit don't play with the oil. 

(I don't think there was actually any oil in the water, but this kid was convinced there was something funky going on there.)

Kiddo: Summit! Stop! Stop that!

Mom: Hey, don't worry about him.

Kiddo: Ok...but I don't want him to catch disease. 

Kids are continuously my greatest gift from Papa to give me perspective on my place in life. They remind me how God views me, as a child: innocent, naive, and sometimes just dumb. It reminds me that even on my worst days, I am loved. When every move I make is a mistake, even in the times I think I am doing good, I may be disciplined, because he disciplines those he loves, but in the end.... I am still loved. Papa simply shakes his head, probably laughs at my toddling, and helps me get back up. I'm his child, that means I'm still learning how to do this holiness thing. I'm still learning what it means to show his love. And I fail...even in my best attempts I am going to fail. Yet even in my failures I'm often like that kid on the beach, worrying about everyone else. Saying "hey, stop that, don't play with the oil" (what oil!) "I don't want you to catch disease." And because I'm human and am going to continue to grow, I'm going to continue to make these mistakes. It almost seems a little hopeless. This idea of perfection that we're supposed to be being shaped into, but will never be able to obtain. 

However, slowly, I think I'm learning that that's the point. The fact that I am continually making these blunders just brings me back to the realization that I am so completely and totally dependent on Christ. I need grace. So maybe then the point of this life is not to obtain the so-called perfection that I am being shaped into, but rather learning how to pass out grace, of the lack of perfection in this life. Recognizing that I fail and having grace with myself, receiving grace from God. That spreads that I may have grace with others. Knowing we're all trying, we're all failing, and there's grace for us all. That removes the stamp of stress and anxiety. It restores freedom to try, try, and makes it ok to fail. Makes it ok to try things and not succeed, because it's expected. In all risk there is an expected loss as a possibility. However, if we never try we never know. Grace gives us the freedom to take risks, because even if we fail, it's ok,  and we can pick ourselves up and try again. What is a full life with out the lessons learned from our unknowing? 

Letting go of all my striving for perfectionism....ever so slowly embracing the ability to try.....to make mistakes....to be hurt....to get back up....try again....Freedom. 

Roles, Maturity, and "I Can" Spirit

Transition. If I have not said it enough (and even if I have, I will say it again) I hate it. Transition, for me, it a point of chaos, struggle, turning. Stress. I struggle in transition to keep my head straight. Most of the time I can't tell if I'm crazy or if it is just circumstances seemingly spinning out of control. However, from what I hear, that's normal. Transition is hard. It's a point where of defining, where what we know, think, and feel is all thrown up in the air and brought into question. For some lucky people, they transition one circumstance at a time. For me, I just tend to get it all at once. This week, new room, new roommates, new job, new sleep schedule, and new roles in where I live. Again, I can't tell if I'm going crazy or if it is mere circumstance. 

And in this process, most of what I had so slowly grown accustomed to has been thrown up in the air for question, reevaluation, and possible change. Everything from, do I really still like that painting that is hanging on the wall, to who am I in this new group of people, to now what do I need to do to take care of myself. 

With new rhythms, I finally decided, to take some alone time and actually look at life. I realized, as I have several times this year, I just feel a struggle in knowing who I am and what I am supposed to be doing with the Annex (where I live and volunteer), church (where do I fit, how can I serve, where am I in the family), friends (what relationships should I be holding onto, where should I be letting go, where should I be pouring in). At least that's what I thought my questions were. However, as I sat and processed, I realized that there are things I feel inclined to. There are things I want to do. Want to be. Naturally we are inclined to different areas, and so am I. 

Still, I struggle. Not maybe with knowing what I'm supposed to be doing, or even would like to do. I struggle knowing that I can do it. I don't know where it started, but at some point people started telling me I look young for my age. I'm only 23, so it's hard to feel people are going to take you serious if you look much younger. That eventually translated in my brain that I act younger and into a belief that I am immature and incapable. Even deeper, it fed I lie I already believed that I can't do it. Oh, but it gets worse. Of course, I can't just believe that about myself, so I put that on others, and believe that's what they think about me. I believe others think I'm immature, irresponible, unable to do anything of meaning. And if you know me, you know that I am a fighter, so I get defensive and I get angry. More than that, I get jealous when I see others being used in their gifts and yet I feel so incapable of so much. And when I get to this point, clearly I am so mature and able to take on the world. The root of insecurity is my downfall. 

I was sitting reflecting this morning, realizing I felt that  I'm immature. I can't be taken seriously. That's when I heard Papa say "My dear, who told you you were immature and unable to handle things" I tried a couple times to insert people's names or situations. Then I realized no one ever had. I had told it to myself. 

Could it be possible that the only person that was standing in the way of me and the rest of my life was myself? 

I think it is valid that sometimes I am immature. But isn't everyone in a new situation. Does anyone truly know how to manage in an area they have never been? If we did know, then what would be the need for growth? So is it possible that I am not afraid of my immaturity, but my imperfection. I am afraid I will not be perfect, so I decline from action. 

As I reflected, I looked at myself and said, "Well, that's dumb." 

A couple weeks ago my friend Ali was telling me about power poses. A study showed that people who walked with confidence, even if they felt no confidence at all, were viewed as more confident. Not only that, but their posture began to rewrite their brain patterns and they BECAME MORE CONFIDENT. 

So I guess now it's time for me to do some power poses. I can't sit back and be afraid of imperfection. The only perfect person is Jesus and that's why the Gospel works. Now it's time for me to embrace the gospel. Embrace I am imperfect, but in that I am capable, because the Lord has given me grace. That is why I can walk in confidence. Even if I don't feel it yet. There's power in "fake it till you make it." So I'll keep speaking that I can. I am. I am becoming who I was made to be and there is now shame in that. I'm not ready to take on the world. But I am ready to take on relationships, friendships, family, church, the Annex. I'm ready to take on my life. 

Dancing with Papa

Anyone that knows me lately knows that I've gotten a little into salsa dancing...and when I saw "gotten into it" I mean it's to the point where my friend Kenni Rae and I joke that Salsa is like crack. If you listened to anyone in the community it sounds like there's looking for a place to get a hit as opposed to practice dancing.

This has become something I love. Something I enjoy to the point that I sometimes go out 2-3 times a week. It's good exercise. It's social. It's fun. It has music and it's beautiful. And generally when I say "I go out" I mean I will probably be at a place starting at 9 or 10 and will most likely leave around 1 or 2, dancing my heart out the whole time. All in all I can end up dancing 4-5 hours straight in a night. No stopping. Not holding anything back. And it brings me joy! I feel alive when I'm dancing. I feel like some how the world makes sense, even when really nothing in the world makes sense and life is going crazy. When I'm dancing it doesn't matter, because all that really matters is the music and the way it moves me.

Last night, as a usual Friday night, I went out to dance salsa. I spent the night spinning and twirling with one partner then another and finally got the chance to dance with my all time favorite salsa partner. This guy only appears to be a petite Asian man, when in fact I swear that he's really the strongest Latino on the dance floor. Seriously, every time we dance I'm impressed by some of the moves he pulls off. There are some things he does I never thought anyone could pull off, then there he goes. He dips, he spins, and he's never dropped me once (Just saying that's an accomplishment). However, despite his dance moves being so impressive, the real reason he is my favorite partner is that ever time I dance with him he takes the time to :
1) teach me something new
2) give me a pep talk.
This night was no exception.

Standing on the edge of the dance floor, watching all the beautiful people, He slid over beside me and asked me for a dance. When my favorite dancer asks for a dance, how can I refuse? He guided me out to the floor and we danced for a few songs. Finally he suggested we take a break. He lead me to the couches off to the side, and says "Kayla, I can't believe how much you have improved. Each time we dance together you keep on getting better and better. I remember seeing you dance the first time in November, and now look at you! That takes dedication and you're out every chance, just improving."

I was thinking about what he said today as I got ready for salsa class and I thought, it's true, I have improved a lot. There's no denying that. I wouldn't say it's extraordinarily. I mean I do go out at least once a week. So I'd still say for that I'm pretty average. However, I go out to practice and when i practice I practice hard. Non-stop is a word that has described me often.

That's when I heard Papa's voice whisper, "Kayla, what if you pursued me the way you pursue dancing?" And I was literally dumb struck. For the past month I've been watching people I would say have "expert" level faith. They walk with Papa like he's right next to them. I guess that's because they know he is. And though I know in my head he is with me, so often my heart is in disbelief and I stray.

I've noticed this tendency, I guess you could call it a habit in my life, that when I'm feeling dead, purposeless, I seek out purpose. Passion is not a foreign concept to me. In high school it was music. Then health. In college it became injustice and speaking up for the voiceless...and though none of these things are bad, they're not the Lord and they don't satisfy. They only are the pursuit of "water that will cause thirst again," and because they do not sustain they need to be pursued. Now I'm recognizing this pattern beginning to repeat in dance. Now I don't think dance is bad, nor do I feel called to quit it. I think that it's a beautiful thing. It's a gift the Lord has given me for the here and now, and oh the way Papa speaks to me as I move.
And I'm not saying that Salsa takes away from my time with the Lord. I've developed the discipline of having quiet time, of sitting with the Lord. Meditation. Devotions. Listening to podcasts. Prayer. However, the thought lingers, what would happen if I pursued Papa as long and as hard as I can dance? Here's my challenge. I guess Papa has given me a dare: Chase me and don't stop. Close down the place if you have to. Practice when you're alone. Follow me. Dance with me. I'm not sure what this would look like and I don't know where it will lead, but I'm willing to find out. I think we'll be seeing more blogs about this to come. Maybe it's a competition with myself, to dance in the spirit as hard as I can dance in the flesh. If in the flesh I can grow so much, how much more in the spirit. I think I'm ready to find out.