Creative, Not Crazy

April 18th, 2010

While I was at Spirit Rock last week I spun the dharma wheel (I have no idea what this thing is actually called, so that’s what I call it) and it landed on:


This is a poignant topic for me right now, as I am greatly lacking in it.

I had lunch yesterday with a favorite spiritual soul of mine, Miss Cynthia Simon. (Her web site, The Radiant Heart, is almost ready to go live, and I really want to give you a sneak peek at this collaborative project we’ve been working on together, but it’s not quite ready yet. Stay tuned.)

Cynthia clarified some things for me that have been foggy in my head for quite a while. I was telling her how I am quite happy dating myself right now (and by right now, I mean, forever). In turn, she was telling me how she one day hopes for me to meet a dude who really gets me.

Wow, thought cynical me. What a naive, yet oddly compelling idea. And, I must admit, reverie took over about all the times it would have been nice to be with a guy who really actually got me.

A guy who, instead of saying “You’re crazy” when I melted down about some dumb thing for no reason, just smiled and said “You’re so creative. I love your weird artistic personality.” A guy who adored me for my unique and eccentric and often just plain confounding ways. A guy who thought it was totally hot when I wore the same hoodie for three days straight or went to the coffee shop in my pajamas with my hair all fucked up. A guy who worshipped my complexity and the inexplicable dichotomy of my moody, sensitive personality and my controlling virgo nature.

Cuz, artists are sensitive, obvi.*

Cynthia. Isn’t she pretty?

I have decided to start using the word “creative” in place of the other negative words my inner critic learned from certain less-than-enlightened beings I have encountered along the way. For instance, in my revisionist history, that certain someone who used to say “You’re crazy!” would have actually said “You’re so creative! I love it!”

And when I hear myself talking to myself that way, ditto. I’m not going to have bad days anymore. I’m going to have “Artist Days.”

* (Shout out to Anna Hughes for contributing my new favorite word diminutive.)


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