We all grow up with so many plans and schemes–ideas that delight us down to the tips of our toes. So many dreams. Seriously! Ask any group of 7 year olds and you’ll get an ear full–hopes and dreams for what’s right around the corner, hopes and dreams about what’s going to show up at Hanukkah or under the Christmas tree, hopes and dreams about their futures–in short, endless possibilities about all the things they’re going to do, have, and be.
We start off strong. We know we can be a fire fighters, ballerinas or judges; we unequivocally know we can dive off the high dive, jump up to the sky on a trampoline, sing opera at the Met (yes, there are 7 years olds who dream of that–I knew one once and I have little doubt that she will indeed grace the Met’s stage someday). Some of us even believe we can play Quidditch.
And so we launch ourselves at 7… Clear, strong, confident, unstoppable, dare I say, exuberant. There aren’t any doubts. We believe in ourselves; we believe in the Universe; it doesn’t occur to us not to.
And with that kind of energy, when we decide we want a go cart we just assemble our neighborhood friends, start collecting old wood and baby carriage wheels, nuts, bolts and screws, lemonade for the weary and throw ourselves in whole heartedly. We have a plan, we’re on a mission. The end result doesn’t matter nearly as much as the process we’re in. We’re involved; we’re on fire; we’re full of life and maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll even end up with a go cart that works! But above all else, we’re whole hearted and that, my friends, is the magic ingredient for any dish that will delight us to the core.
So what happens? What goes wrong? Because let’s face it by the time we hit 34, 47 or 53…. the picture is a little different. Some of us don’t even dream anymore. Life has run us over and we’re playing a perpetual catchup game–the endless to do list, magical in its own right because no matter how hard we work at it, it self perpetuates and grows.
Maybe we have little peaks of joy here and there, but for the most part we’ve lost that fling yourself into it, give it your all, whole hearted, full hearted living.
How do we bring back that 7 year old’s spark? How do we recapture that joie de vivre? That zest for life that had us hopping out of bed first thing on Saturday morning chomping at the bit to get back to our creative project in the garage?
Well we start by taking a deep breath and turning to ourselves and asking, very gently, very simply–without any expectation that we’re going to get a well thought out and delivered dissertation–“What do you like? What’s interesting to you?” And we ask this question without agenda.
A lot of times we don’t even recognize our authentic voice any more. We have so many voices in our heads (our mothers, brothers, fathers, teachers, rabbis, neighbors, celebrities etc…) that it’s a veritable cacophony that effectively and completely obliterates our sweet little true voice.
One of the funnest ways to reconnect with our real self is to get a big stack of old magazines, put some music on, maybe have a friend or two over and just play. Give yourself a block of time–2 hours is great to start–when you’re not going to be interrupted. Turn the mind chatter off. Maybe start with a meditation or some yoga stretches. And then just start flipping through those magazines and tearing and cutting out whatever draws your attention. Tear out anything and everything you have a positive reaction to. You may not even have the slightest idea why your tearing it out; just tear it out.
Follow the energy. Let your creative muse lead the way. Let your playful inner child turn the delight back on from the inside out.
Once you have a stack of pictures, lay them out on a poster board–not in any particular order, just however they feel right to you. Have a fun with this; let yourself flow with it. There will come a point where your collage will feel right to you. Now it’s time to glue everything in place–old fashioned paste works (and it smells good too) or glue sticks.
Last but not least, enjoy it. Find a place to hang your board–someplace where you’ll run into it on a regular basis–and just enjoy it. Look at it. Play with it. Notice any positive shifts in your energy, in your thinking. You may start to sprout some new creative ideas over the next week or so. You may pick up a dusty guitar and start plucking away again. You may find yourself scheming about going on a cross country bike ride. Just notice and E.N.J.O.Y.
Be easy about it all…
With showers of light and love,
Want more content like this to help you live a happier, more vibrant life, delivered straight to your inbox? Sign up for my newsletter now on the right of this page (toward the top) and I’ll send you tips, inspiration, and a few giggles along the way.
©2016 Rhégina Sinozich