Yes, I did, and it was really lovely. I have found no better way to get free of life’s many entanglements than to go camp in the woods somewhere and hide away from almost all of humanity. I packed up a very tall stack of books and magazines, more notebooks than I could ever reasonably find a use for, a few packs of cards, and whisked myself away to the solitude of the quiet midwestern wilds.
Something about being in the middle of natural creativity inspires me to want to be more creative myself. But something I’ve struggled with, for as long as I’ve been writing, has been the unfortunate instinct that I need to justify the time that I spend writing. I think that instinct is wrong.
When I talk to other writers and creators, I realize that I’m not the only one who feels this way. Many of us have many other responsibilities (whether it be child care, or other professional duties, or even just getting around to cleaning the bathroom occasionally), and so we feel guilty about putting any sort of priority on the time we dedicate to their craft.
I relate, and I think it’s a valid concern. Everyone needs to make a living, and many of us have other people who depend on us for their day-to-day needs. The reality, at least for me, is that sometimes I need to do stuff that has a very direct impact for good on someone’s life (or even my own), and it’s important to get that stuff done. Although I do think that writing does my soul good, it’s harder to appreciate that good if I can’t put food on the table for my actual body.
That said, I also don’t think that means creativity isn’t important at all. I could write a dozen blog posts (maybe I will) about each of the many ways that I feel creative writing has been a boon to my life. But ultimately, if something brings joy, and it doesn’t cause harm, then I just don’t think that we need to justify the things we love. Joy is justification in and of itself.
In her book Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert writes that, “A creative life is an amplified life. It’s a bigger life, a happier life, an expanded life…”1 She argues that there doesn’t have to be a point to creativity. You don’t have to make money off of what you do. You don’t have to change anyone else’s life through what you create. You don’t even have to create anything impressive. You just have to enjoy whatever it is you do.
Trying to balance (“trying” is the operative term here) all of our competing priorities as we incorporate our creativity into our lives is worthwhile. I’m a firm believer that one of the purposes of life is to find joy—particularly in its purest form. I believe that humans are better to each other when they feel joyful. And for me, writing and creating something that didn’t exist before brings me joy. Maybe you feel the same.
When I went camping, I saw so many wildflowers. Pink cone flowers and golden black-eyed Susans, white clovers, and the tiniest little neon-yellow snapdragons I’ve ever seen. If the flowers I saw when I went camping decided that their existence needed to have a purpose beyond just being there for me to see, the world would have a lot less joy in it. And the fascinating thing about joy is that it tends to be contagious.
So don’t deny yourself the joy of creativity. Chances are, you would be denying others some joy too.
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- Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert, 2015 Penguin Press, pgs. 12-13. ↩︎
Jordan Radford Writes 