Creativity in My 40s: Medicine for My Soul

Lately, I’ve been having this daydream.

I escape to the Isle of Skye off the west coast of Scotland. I rent a cottage made for one. The bedroom is a cloudy gray with a four-poster bed—outfitted with crisp white bedding, knitted blankets, and welcoming oversized pillows. An enormous picture window looks out over the landscape. I take walks. I drink copious amounts of hot herbal tea. I write. I stare out at nothing. I take in everything.

I tap into an earthy and ancient part of myself that cannot be quieted any longer.

I walk.

I write.

I sleep.

I indulge.

I dream.

I drink.

I create.

My soul sings and dances with wild abandon.

My soul is on fire. 

My soul is free.

My soul creates.

Here’s my reality… 

I am a mother in my late 40s. I live in the United States and have never traveled to Scotland. My heritage is one-hundred percent Italian. I’m almost positive that I have olive oil running through my veins. 

I wear aprons and cook and clean and I’ve home-educated my three kids, now all teenagers, for over 10 years. I work from home. I’m slowly building a life coaching practice in between shuttling teenagers back and forth to all the things. 

I keep track of schedules, appointments, homeschool classes, bills, groceries, holidays, and everything a mother’s brain is required to carry. 

I read approximately five books at a time. And I’m usually listening to one too. Words are one of my love languages. I keep extra journals on hand. I can never have too many pens. 

And my soul, unlike in my fantasy, often feels like a flickering candle in the dark. 

But–I write almost every day. 

I write in a journal. 

I work on my book.

I draft a newsletter or an Instagram post.

I send witty and ridiculous text messages to my best friends. 

Words and phrases and ideas stream into my head and heart all day long. Sometimes, I can catch them and get them on paper. Other times, they come to me in a late-night shower and I have to remember them and rush to write them down in my journal with my hair dripping wet and a towel wrapped around me. 

Creating in my 40s has been medicine for my soul.  

I spent my late 20s and 30s trying to start a family, working, and then having three babies in 22 months (a boy then boy/girl twins). My body, mind, and soul were only focused on their well-being. The post-partum depression gripped me and made it difficult to do anything beyond following a baby-centered routine of bottles, baths, playtime, and bedtime. I didn’t write or do anything creative (beyond homeschooling projects when my children were young) for close to ten years. 

I worried that my Creative-Soul-Self had completely left the building. I feared She had long expired somewhere between the years of bottle feedings and diaper changes and homeschooling three energetic children. Not to mention the health issues (mine and all three children), moving twice in less than two years, and the day-to-day to-dos that consumed my time and energy.

 Ah, but those soul whispers. 

I slowly and carefully began tuning into them. It began by creating nurturing and sustainable self-care practices. I made time to move my body. I slept more. I fed my body well. I sought guidance and worked with an energy healer. I prayed. I cried. A lot. I looked back. I worked on staying present. I let myself dream of the future. 

I could feel Creativity trickling through my veins. I sensed Her presence and began to write again.

I am now 47.

I’ve spent the last few years filling journal after journal. I’ve shared my journey and stories in the captions of Instagram posts. Last fall, I was honored to be published in a book for the first time ever. My soul whispers fueled me and the trickling Creativity eventually turned into a river–guiding me along as I flowed. 

Finding FLOW in areas of my life has become both my mission and my passion. Developing my Creative FLOW practice is something I come back to again and again. 

Find something I’m passionate about and explore it.

Linger over details, scents, sounds, textures, and feelings.

Observe my surroundings, my emotions—anything and everything is welcome. 

Write what’s on my heart and in my soul. 

I cannot stop these words and thoughts from pouring out of my heart and onto a page or the screen.

I write in the margins of motherhood in midlife.

In fact, I am writing this piece in my cluttered minivan on a cold Saturday afternoon in between basketball games for my 14-year-old twins. My son is chomping pretzels, blaring a YouTube video, and talking to me. All at once. I stop briefly to acknowledge him and chat for a few minutes, my thoughts paused in mid-air. He finishes and I go back to creating. I go back to the words that need to come forth right now. 

I feel the FLOW of Creativity humming through my body and my soul burning bright.