The Quiet Joy of Creating for No One

There are creations that don’t begin in the studio or journal, but in dreams. Those liminal spaces where the unconscious self communes with the one awake

A lot of my creativity is birthed in and through dreams. An intimate relationship between the parts of me I cannot fully understand, not consciously access, and the self I walk with by day. With her there's intimacy, dialogue. Two wildly different selves. One is a mystery, the other my best friend. When I create through dream, it feels like green lights from the unseen: Share this. You are on the right track. Your voice matters.

But then... my mind creeps in, disguised as refinement, perfection. It tells me: It’s not good enough. Not yet. Keep digging. It brings every reason to pause, keep editing and ultimately, abandon. Impostor syndrome disguised as perfectionism. Everything to overthink is brought forward. The communion I felt with my creation gets distorted to the point of destruction.

And this isn’t just about not sharing with others. It’s about not even letting myself witness it. This is where something breaks. This is where I break it. 

I realized that in doing this, I was destroying a bond of myself with myself. No longer safe to rise to the surface, the creativity stopped flowing. "Why come out when you will kill me?" she seems to say. "If you will shrink from this, then maybe you're not the one meant to hold it. " Ouch. 

But as I grow safer in my authenticity, the bond comes back... and m learning to strengthen it. I have made a plea of no destruction, no judgement. I will create for the joy of creating. I will create to honour my unpolished self. Perfect in its outpouring, be it what it may. 

One line from my many manifestos reads:

May I create not to impress, but to belong to myself. 
May I create as communion with the unseen. The unseen parts of me and the unseen infinite cosmos that gifts me with creation. 

So here is my ritual, my devotion to expression without audience. Try it for yourself:

Mist something sacred. Water always reminds me to flow, to move past obstacles, to not take it so damn seriously. Soon you'll be able to purchase the cleanest botanical flower water: Para el Agua. This helps me clear the static of doubt. Light a candle before you begin. Let your intention arise from your heart. The mind gets to rest for now. 

Open to receive. It's you with you. Celebrate that gift. 

Speak aloud: “I do not need to be seen to be sacred.” And when the work is done, no matter how "finished", bless it. Thank it. Even if you never show it.

Sometimes creation feels like a cool summer breeze. Other times it feels heavy and impossible. This is relationship with self. Because life will always have its polarities. The beauty unravels and becomes more delicious when we learn to celebrate both. 

May your joy, your grief, your rage be enough reason to begin. May the green light in your dreams guide your waking hands. May you create not to impress, but to belong to yourself.

Journal Prompts for Your Own Quiet Joy

Let these questions meet you where you are. Breathe often. Let honesty, not eloquence, not perfectionism, not striving, guide your pen.

1. When was the last time I created just for myself? What did it feel like in my body?
2. Where does the pressure to perform still live in me? What truth wants to emerge underneath it?
3. What would it mean to create from self-intimacy instead of validation? What would I make then?

To the alchemical powers of creation: Sometimes joyful full of laughter and ease. Sometimes heavy, full of tears and knots. 

May your creations, even the ones no one sees, be a home you return to again and again.

With love, always,
Tamara