Here we are again, exiting a season of renewal and rest and entering the season of what feels like an F1 race. At our house, we’ve made it through 6 actual days of school with one sick kid and one with a broken bone in her foot, and it’s only the 8th! Summertime for us was glorious, weeks of drippy hot weather, mingled with family time, friend time and ocean time. Did my garden survive my 3 week holiday to Vancouver Island? Kind of. But my mind needed the time away.

Of all the things I think I have learned over the past 15 years of parenting, it’s that there are seasons to my way of being. Late fall and winter, times when I am building up ideas for new projects, goals, shows. I like the dark of the mornings to read and drink hot coffee and just bask in quiet. Spring sets my mind to work, working through the dark months I spent in reflection, watching seeds sprout through soil engages my mind. And then there is summer, where I am fully ensconced in my parenthood, and for the first time this summer, lots of sleeping in (for me). As much as I like to think it’s happening, there is no secret goblin checking my time card to see how much I’ve spent working on my creative pursuits, how many mornings I’ve done my routine, or checking to see how often I’ve filled homemade cookie jar. Releasing Horns of Hope was a feat that I need to rest and recover from so that I can do it again.

As much as the DSP executives would like artists to be in constant creation, we are not always this prolific. Some may write 100 songs in as many days and then nothing for years. I’m sure some only ever write one great song, or book or one great painting. To find people that align with your values and dreams is a difficult pursuit in itself-they are certainly not a dime a dozen. And I certainly cannot afford a house cleaner, cook, chauffeur to take care of my kids so that I can have my creative time. Because, as I’ve said before, being creative is inconvenient. It doesn’t happen when I want it. It certainly doesn’t happen in the summer, when I’m tripping over art supplies and L.O.L dolls, cursing the water main break that I can’t ship them outside for a break in in the sprinkler. And for the first time this summer, I think I was ok with it.

Sometimes you will get reminders about the great things you’ve accomplished. A nice review, a message from a fan or from someone you respect. Don’t let this weigh into your daily. Don’t let the reminder become a failure that you are not in your studio writing all day long. Those goblins are just waiting for your feelings of hopelessness, they feed on it and make it impossibly to get out from under.

As Suleika Jaouad puts it, survival is a creative act, and I would go so far as to say that creativity is an act of survival. You do it as a result of something, maybe its happiness, or trauma or just watching the clouds pass you by while you’re laying on the beach. Be ready for it, but don’t put yourself out on the spit if you don’t grab it. Another moment may come, and when it does, you’ll catch it.

xo

AJ