Why Making Room for Creativity Matters, Even When Life Gets Busy

Grandma and Lucy are having a talk, and Lucy is giving her all of her attention. I know that won’t last forever as she grows up, so I’m holding close to this little moment. I am so in love.

That kind of attention feels like its own small creation: two people making space for each other, sharing time, building a memory. We often think of creativity as something you can hang on a wall or hear from a stage. But it can also be the way we care for people, tend a garden, prepare a meal or patiently help a child understand the world.

There’s more than one way to be creative

Have you ever thought of yourself as a creator? I believe we all arrive with the capacity to make things. I believe we come from a Father in Heaven who creates, and that creativity is something we carry within us. It comes out in different ways, shaped by what we need, what we enjoy and what we have learned to do.

Some people may feel at home with a paintbrush, an instrument or a sewing machine. Others create through kindness, careful work, a welcoming home or the steady support they give to someone else. We don’t need to be equally good at every kind of making for our creativity to count. A person can be drawn to helping others, love animals fiercely, grow food or raise children with care. Those gifts take attention and imagination, too.

For me, making things was encouraged from childhood. There was singing and dancing, piano and other instruments, cooking and baking, and the hand arts. We were allowed to make messes while we figured things out. That freedom mattered. It gave me room to try, learn, and enjoy the process without needing every effort to come out perfectly.

Don’t shrink to make someone else comfortable

For years, people—especially women at church—would make snide comments like, “Is there anything you can’t do?” They hurt more than the speakers may have realized. I wasn’t trying to make anyone feel small. I was simply a creative person, doing the things I’d been encouraged to do and liked doing.

For a long time, I hid some of that potential. Now I don’t. When somebody is rude, I smile and carry on. I don’t downplay what I can do or apologize for enjoying it. Someone else’s discomfort doesn’t have to become my reason to stop.

That doesn’t mean every interest needs to become a skill, a business or a source of praise. Sometimes it’s enough to like doing something. I call myself a jack of many trades and a master of none, and I’m happy with that. The point isn’t to prove that I’m the best. It’s to keep the pleasure of creating in my life.

Maybe your creativity doesn’t look like mine. Perhaps you make a space feel welcoming, find a thoughtful way to comfort a friend, or have a knack for caring for animals. Maybe you grow a garden, cook for your family, or keep a home running. Even cleaning calls for choices about how to bring order to a space. I could certainly use a little help with that one.

Pay attention to what draws you in. What do you find yourself making, tending or improving? What makes you lose track of time or feel useful? Those questions can point toward a part of yourself worth nurturing. Start small if that fits your life: set aside an hour, gather the supplies you need, or simply make room for one thing you enjoy.

A busy shop, and a welcome return of work

Yesterday was a full day at the shop. Interruptions kept making it hard to concentrate, but I finished a wedding dress that was picked up this morning. I also worked on a difficult mother-of-the-bride dress. Then I started taking apart a flower girl dress and had to stop. It was after 5:30, and my back was screaming.

Today I’ll finish that flower girl dress and another one. A lot of pants have come in for hemming, along with more dresses, so the lull we had seems to be over for a while. That will make Sissie happy. I think she thought I was out of work. Surprise! She’s away today, taking a neighbor somewhere, so she’ll be surprised tomorrow.

A busy stretch can make it tempting to measure the day only by what got finished. But there’s satisfaction in the work itself: figuring out a tricky alteration, caring for a garment someone loves, and making something fit the person who will wear it. There are limits, too. When my back tells me to stop, I have to listen, even if a project is waiting.

I’m off to make a mess in the shop, and I’m going to love it. Whatever form your creativity takes, give it room to grow without asking it to justify itself to everyone else. God is good.

Kim