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!!