THE COURAGE TO CREATE

Starting to write takes guts.

In ancient cultures, creativity was a part of everyday life for all people, shaping new objects to use, but also making them beautiful, art for art’s sake. These days creativity is seen as something separate, apart from the busy lives we lead, busy making money to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies. Art making is viewed as an optional “extra”, a hobby, a self-indulgence, a privilege and not a right, so that to consciously and continually pursue an art form like writing is an act of rebellion. 

Great courage is needed to step outside the norm and say, “I am a creator. What I have to say is important. My ideas are worth sharing. My stories need to be told.” 

Be that crazy kid who breaks the mould!

I am a firm believer that creativity is a powerful healing tool. Through crafting a work of beauty from our emotional pain, a new vision or version of the past is made, and we are freed from much of the burden of carrying that pain. Through creativity, in whatever form that takes, we express our tender hearts and release the stories we tell ourselves onto the page, the canvas, the dancefloor, the instrument. Through our courage to do so, others see their own stories and hearts reflected and know that they are not alone, that others also bleed, that we are all in this human mess together. 

This work is important. So much of the modern world ignores the emotional lives we all share, yet we are feeling beings, shaped by our emotions, thoughts and sensations. We are not machines. As the poet Samuel Hurley says in his poem, “AI vs The Poet” – “A thing that cannot grieve has no right to poetry”. 

As machines are taking over so many of our roles, we need to protect our very human right to create, our expression of what it is to live and our attempts to understand it. Is creativity the last castle of humanity?

Don’t hide in the shadows! Assert your human right to create!

How do we protect our right to creation?

By creating! By writing or drawing or dancing or sculpting or sewing or weaving or cooking or performing or singing. Without fear. By having the courage to continue to create in the face of technological advances and commercially focused marketplaces. By refusing to become an unthinking working machine but instead choosing to live fully and bravely and to express ourselves through the arts.

So put that pen to paper, open a new document and type without looking at the words. Paint for the joy of the colours. Dance for the bliss of movement. Sing for the magic of sound.

Life is not just about paying bills and doing what has to be done.

Life is to be grasped with both hands, to be savoured and enjoyed through the senses, to be shared through creative expression, to be fully lived.

It takes great courage to step into the ring as a practising artist, knowing what we create may never be seen and may never be rewarded financially. But still we create. 

We continue to create in the face of all those sensible folk around us who remind us our income is below the poverty line, that we have no superannuation, that we’re wasting our time. 

For we know the opposite is true. We who choose a life of creativity are making the very best use of our brief voyage through a human life. We are expressing what it is to be, and to be us. Unique, intriguing, wonderful.

And after our work has been knocked back—invalidated, unseen, unheard, it takes guts to continue, to stagger back up from the mat after the thirtieth knockout blow. Rocky has nothing on artists.

I once heard a writer say, “Writing may not make you rich, but it will enrich your life.”

In the years since then, I’ve learnt the truth of her words. What riches a life of observing, creating, refining and learning holds! Anything less is poor in comparison. I wouldn’t swap my writing life for all the handsome superannuation portfolios in the world.

Have courage, my dear writing friends, for we are the tellers of tales, the sharers of secrets, the wise and the wonderful. 

Are you yearning to create? Just start. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It won’t be perfect, it never is. 

But it will be you, on a page. And no one will ever be able to take that away. 

With lots of love

Edwina xx

PS. If you’re in need of a little en-COURAGE-ment on your writing journey, why not come along and join us in Vietnam in February 2025 in Heavenly Hoi An. Connect with other like-minded writing folk, immerse yourself in an exotic culture, explore the ancient town and your own creative heart, relax with yoga, and be encouraged, inspired and uplifted by writing workshops guaranteed to get you writing! All the info and to book HERE 15% now off all bookings for Heavenly Hoi An 2025!!

OF USE TO THE WORLD?

nuns praying

the prayers of nuns

I used to believe that cloistered nuns and monks who did nothing but pray all day were living wasted lives, that their meditations were self-indulgent and provided no worth for the rest of us out in the real world, doing the dirty work.

Now I know better. I know that their prayers and silence are essential, an attempt at counterbalancing the noise and bustle and prayerlessness of the secular world. The collective unconscious desperately needs their focused thoughts of love and peace and joy. And as the world speeds up to ridiculous velocity, we need more of them, more than ever.

Similarly, I have often wondered, as no doubt most artists have, if the pursuit of my own artistic dreams is a selfish act, if what I am doing serves any purpose for the greater human good. I want my writing to be of use to the world. It is my work, what I am best at, a way I can serve. But how?

For my writing to be of use, more than for my own purposes of examining truths and personal healing, my writing needs to be read. I am writing to be read. As artists create paintings to be gazed at and stir emotions, as musicians write music to be played and listened to, a writer needs readers. Writing is to be shared, not stored. Art is not a solitary act. It is a conversation. A conversation of the most wonderful kind, about the heights and depths of human experience; a conversation that at its best moves us to tears, not only of grief but also of relief and ultimately joy.

connecting with a reader

connecting with a reader

I want my books to do what those books that most touched and influenced me did. I want them to connect with the reader, to give them the feeling I used to be surprised by and then cherished. That wonderful knowledge – I am not alone, others have thought this, felt this, endured this, the thoughts in my head, that troubling inner dialogue, isn’t all that different from the thoughts of others. I am not a freak but only horribly human among humans.

My yearning for a good publisher isn’t a selfish act at all, but one of sharing. It’s not about wanting recognition or to be paid for the work I’ve done, though that’s a part of it. Mostly it’s about wanting to be of use to the world. In order for a writer to serve, she must be read. In order to be read she must first be published.

My wish for all my writing friends this year is for the perfect publishers to come your way. To find readers for your work.

I’m excited about starting my asa mentorship Australian Society of Authors mentorship with the highly regarded and respected editor Judith Lukin-Amundsen. I am honoured to have had my Cambodian story, “Women Are Cloth” selected for the program, especially as I share this joy with my best writing buddy Helena Pastor.

book with heart pages

heart book