How Emotional Chaos can Fuel Our Creative Fire

“I write because I must. It’s not a choice or a pastime, it’s an unyielding calling and my passion.” ~Elizabeth Reyes
Frustration scratches on the door of my mind, which I also call my creative mansion. I move quickly from room to room as mental toddlers run a muck in the the halls of my mind. I call out, demanding for the parental wordsmith to come quickly and scold the tyrants that are stirring up the dust of trepidation which prevents me from literary relief. This is what it feels like in the infancy of my writing from the inside of my head.
My restless trauma-stained-mind prevents me from completion of thought yet, so poetically, it creates the unearthed foundation for me to reach deeper, and higher, as I intimately connect to the powerful force that consumes my creative world. I willingly surrender for this is who I AM-a creative wordsmith.
I dance in the fiery chaos of creativity so eloquently that I know no other way of life. I intuitively follow each wordy phantom of my creativity as it beckons me beyond what I believe my earth-self is capable of writing. The enigmatic instructor who leads me through the dance of constructing my thoughts pulls me closer completion. I follow the steps that guide me, eventually laying bare as I become submissive to the emotionally inspired dance of creativity. Once again, I have been seduced by the fiery passion that overtakes my mind, body, and soul. I linger in a blissful haze with each published work that has been crafted from the deepest caverns of my chaotic artistic being.
Do I turn down the music and lower the level of intensity to accommodate what separates me from them, or do I turn up the volume that will inevitably propel me further into vast continents and creative wonderlands? I have no choice but to revel in ecstasy as the clicking keyboard takes me to a more enlightened space of awareness. The soulful being that resides in this vessel of flesh tangles with words just as a lover tangles with the flesh and bones of his or her object of desire. I am in a space-less world where I engage with my passion, yet I am grounded as I read aloud to myself in order to properly edit the words that have been frolicking in my own personal word haven.
This alphabetical dance is creatively chaotic and wildly engaging. Spiritual word-birth is nothing less than euphoric. Never will I know another dance, nor would I ever desire to. I will be faithful to the wordy muse that resides in my mind and heart. With each tap of the keyboard, I am more deeply intertwined in the mystical creative dance that uses emotional chaos as its personal choreographer. From the page I rise, again and again to tell the truth of who I am as a post-trauma soul in recovery.
“The muse will have to learn to be patient just as the savage beast of perfection will have to do the same. In tandem, they enhance the capacity to be lenient on the facets of life that dance on the raw nerves of my productivity.” ~Rebecca L. Edwards
Originally published at www.rebeccaledwards.com.
