Meeting our Creator through Creativity

As we go within, we discover that we are not alone there. The loneliness we fear finding in art is actually the loneliness of disconnecting ourselves from our creativity and our creator. As we try our hand literally at the making of something, we do meet our maker. As me try to make more and more, more and more is made of us and through us. Julia Cameron Walking in This World Page 5

You will hear many writers say that writing is a lonely business. I have to say that I do not find it so. Perhaps it is because I like the solitary life that I do not find being an author a lonely life.

If one is to do one’s best writing one needs to be alone. Having a lot of people around when one is trying to concentrate on writing a chapter of a book or a paragraph of an article distracts one from the task at hand.

The task at hand of making art needs our full attention as well as our joining with our Creator in prayerful partnership. It is much more difficult to connect with God and our creativity if we have to attend to the needs of others while we are trying to attend to our creative work whether it be writing, painting, or needlepoint.

When we allow ourselves to be alone and not think of it as being lonely, we can tune into our creative work and be at one with our Creator.

© Judith Lawrence

Nothing is too Small for God

Chipmunk

Nothing is too small [for God]. Nothing is too large. As we practice walking …we begin to get a notion of the scope and scale of God—one eye on the sparrow and the other on the vast and starry universe. We are a part of all that, and, by the simple act of reaching out our hand to connect, we become a partnered part of life. Julia Cameron Walking in This World Page 5

When I was a child my father took my brother and me for long walks each Sunday evening. This was the time my mother went to a church service—in the morning she was busy getting the Sunday dinner—my father would take us to church in the morning and on a walk in the evening.

Night Sky

On these walks together my father taught me many things about nature. He always had his eyes open for something new and unexpected and would share his sightings with us and, at the same time, teach us to be observant of what was around us. As we learned to be alert to God’s creation we also learned about the Creator’s care for what he has made. It is exactly as Julia Cameron says, God has “one eye on the sparrow and the other on the vast and starry universe.”

We, as creators of our own art in whatever form, must learn to be as caring and responsible of what we create, whether it is writing, painting, book-binding, sewing, or baking, as God is of his creation.

As we walk and pay attention to what is around us in the form of God’s creation we will learn to become as caring of our own creativity as God is of us. God is our partner in our works of art and in all parts of our lives—our friendships, our work, our sadness, and our joy. By walking with God we begin to see the vastness of his love and caring; we begin to see how nothing is too small for him and nothing too large for his concern.

© Judith Lawrence

Gentle Listening

Julia Cameron says, Walking in this world, we do not go unpartnered. We do not speak our prayers unheard. There is someone or something listening with the most tender of hearts. As we open to our inner life, our outer life also shifts. Lives are transformed by a gentle form of listening that is like walking with a cherished friend who listens [to us]. Julia Cameron, Walking in This World Page 5

If we walk alone, whether it is in the countryside or in a town or city, we may find ourselves talking to God as we walk. It is the kind of talking we do with a friend when we have a problem and we need someone to listen. This talking and responsive listening is a way to get troubling thoughts sorted out.

Our words, though not spoken out loud, do not go unheard. The listener, the one that I call God, or Jesus, or the Holy Spirit, listens to our thoughts and prayers as one who cares deeply for His children. Whether our prayers are about an illness that has come upon us, some relationship difficulty that we are going through, or some passage in our writing that we can’t seem to get right, God listens quietly and gently so that our concerns get sorted out while we walk and pray.

The listener does not necessarily tell us what to do but, by allowing us to talk without judging us, we are enabled to find the right path that leads us through our difficulties and into a good conclusion.

© Judith Lawrence

Engaging the Great Creator

Labyrinth, St. John's Convent, Toronto

Julia Cameron, in her book, Walking in This World, says, How you walk matters less than that you walk. Walking allows the insights of your inner teacher to enter a dialogue with the teacher you encounter in the pages [of this book]. …I simply wrote down [in The Artist’s Way] the precepts of divine intervention in our lives the moment we engage our creativity and, through that, engage our Great Creator. Page 4, Walking in This World, Julia Cameron.

Cameron, as part of the three-pronged artist recovery program in her book, The Artist’s Way, advocated a daily walk as well as a longer weekly walk. In her more recent book for artists, Walking in This World, she again stresses the importance of walking, along with the daily Morning Pages (three pages written in long-hand), and the weekly Artist’s Date.

Toronto Ontario Labyrinth

She speaks of how walking opens one up to hear and see the insights that one already has within. It is as if the regular beat of the footsteps on the ground allows the release of ideas from their dormant position to join forces with the Great Creator to become a new creation, whether it be a poem, a painting, or a piece of music.

The act of walking allows one’s thoughts to take wing. The rational brain lets go its hold on ideas, allowing their freedom into flights of fancy and fantasy so that new life and patterns are created.

Walking can also lead us into contemplation, prayer, and praise, joining us with God and the best part of ourselves.

© Judith Lawrence