Creating What Matters - part 1
The beauty of the creative process is in what emerges from nothing,
One of my favorite questions to ask people is, “What are you creating to make your corner of the world more beautiful?” The answers to this always vary, and it fascinates me!
Some people create with words, with paint on canvas, with photography. Or with ingredients, or soil and seeds, or with the way they invite others into their spaces. “Art” may fall within parameters defined by experts, but beauty is subjective. It can be about objects and utility, about aesthetic, about safety or comfort, about color, texture. And so often the beauty is found as we create. The process of creation can be beautiful.
My own preferred method of creation involves yarn and needles or hook, or thread and fabric. Following a pattern, allowing an image or a texture or a useful item to emerge under my fingertips. I’m caught up in subtle color changes and striking contrasts, in the sensation of thread or yarn between my fingers, in the way “nothing special” becomes “I made this.”
Because I tend to make things like blankets, scarves, and sweaters, in my mind autumn equals creation. While the world outside is preparing to slumber, my mind begins to awaken. The weather begs us to slow down, our social calendars (in normal years) begin to speed up, and I’m caught in the space between.
I am naturally introspective, and sitting and knitting gives me a space to let my thoughts wander. I think about the creativity given to all people by God, the ability we have to partner with The Creator, the Author of beauty and our stories, the Finisher of our faith. I think about the creation process I’ve undergone in the last several years - how it sometimes felt like destruction and drudgery. I couldn’t see the pattern, or notice the subtle color changes. I only felt the difficulties, the tensions, the unraveling and the restitching of things that I thought were static.
In knitting, pattern texture is created by moving the yarn back and forth to create different types of stitches. Sometimes we create extra loops, or pull stitches out of place and stretch them to a different part of the row; sometimes we work back and forth without finishing a row completely. Sometimes we spot a mistake or something that isn’t working, and we pull out several rows of work and risk a tangle of yarn waiting to be reused. It can look like a mess when you are in the middle of the work. But after a few rows have been worked, it begins to make sense.
If I pause to look back over my life, I can see the striking difference between the person I was 10 years ago and the person I am today. I can see where elements of my personality I thought were fixed had to be stretched and repositioned; that the way I used to do things will not serve me going forward. People and places that were not part of the pattern have been removed, and I’ve felt the threat of tangling as I tried to hold onto the relationships as they ended. The threads of my life move back and forth, create loops and tie pieces together. And I can see that the process of creation, in my life, has been at least as important as whatever the final result will be.
It’s in the process of creation that I discover the delight of what is being formed. And I like to think that God views this creation and recreation of our lives the same way. The process matters to Him; how we participate in what He’s making is important to what we ultimately become.
I wrote about some of my 10-year reflection on Twitter in August. This is a large part of my story and I’ve kept it close for a long time. But it was time to start marveling at the beauty God has created from what could have been destruction. As we head into autumn, will you take time to ponder the beauty He’s creating in you? I hope you will, and I hope you will find a way to express that for yourself, in your own way.