Sometimes I DO get overwhelmed.
But if I try to curb those creative impulses, life seems suddenly dreary. I have more time to relax, but I don't feel rested. I feel unsatisfied, incomplete. My husband has always observed that I don't know HOW to relax and just do nothing, and he's right. Just doing nothing is very rarely relaxing for me. It's creativity that relaxes me. When my hands are busy, my spirit is at rest.
I've been thinking about this a lot lately, bemused at myself for constantly adding more things to an already ridiculous to-do list. And I've been thinking, it isn't just me. You do it to. You, my blogging, Pinning, writing, cooking, homemaking, mothering, wife-ing, nail-painting, crafting, reading (and if you think reading isn't an act of creation, you aren't doing it right), photographing, soul-diving ladies. Us. We constantly create in a thousand small, barely-noticed ways. Mostly feminine ways, it seems like, and that makes sense. We are constructed to create life (or at least, to seriously facilitate the process) and we don't just do that on the large scale. Thousands of tiny acts of creation, tiny little births that might seem insignificant, but they still matter because they make life that much more lovely.
I don't think it's trivial, and I don't think it's busywork. I'm pretty sure that even the smallest act of creation is vitally necessary.
This has probably been better said before, I am sure, it's just what's been drifting around the edges of my mind lately. Now I have to run and CREATE breakfast, at task at which I am running very, very late!