Last night I sat with my childhood best friend and my older brother, on a beautiful summer evening with the best hint of breeze, and she said that sometimes, you just have to let creativity come to you. 

It struck me that the two of us had come to that realization together. I’ve been thinking about this concept a lot lately, at this stage in my life, writing a journal entry last week that was filled with the question, “What’s the rush?” Because lately, I’ve been learning that when I try to force something to be, it won’t be. And oftentimes, the forced decisions are the ones that aren’t the most meaningful or fulfilling to me, because I didn’t let myself sit with them. I did them because I thought I had to, not because I wanted to. 

This has shown up often throughout my life — the rushing. I remember when I was little I would panic to finish tests as quickly as possible, and ended up doing worse on them than the ones where I utilized the full time slot. I remember thinking that I needed to have a 9-5 job post-graduation, because that was the thing that unemployed college kids do, and so I accepted the first one I was offered. This didn’t turn out to be a bad thing, but it was a decision born out of anxiety rather than genuine connection. 

All throughout my twenties, I’ve tried to rush into the best career decisions for myself, even though I have a whole lifetime to do that, because I have it in my mind that my thirties are for marriage and building families, and the career-building needs to be done by then. But who says? And what does “done” even mean?

What’s the rush?

Patience is truly a virtue, as my mother has always told me, but it’s something that hasn’t fully clicked until now. It’s a beautiful thing, though, to extend patience and gentleness to myself. To sit with the what ifs for just a little while longer. To weigh the pros and cons, to remember that nothing is perfect — but especially not when I’ve made a decision that was only half-baked. A decision made in fear of not making one. 

And, this is especially true for my artwork. I have been beating myself up for a while for not doing enough for my singing career. While others pursue extended degrees, network, and find competition opportunities, I had stopped trying, thinking I lost my creative pull towards it. 

It is now, two years after I graduated, that I’m finally doing a solo performance again. And this is because I let myself be called back to it. I realized it was something I needed in my life, and let my body do its thing. Let myself find the opportunities. I stopped associating it with a task I needed to do, which then linked it to anxiety, and instead something for my own enjoyment. And now I’m going to let the creative gods do their thing — whatever happens from here happens. I know, though, that if I come into this performance with expectations for what’s next, I’m not allowing patience to work its wonders. Thank you to my partner for his wisdom in this regard ❤

In America, and in the northeast, especially, we are surrounded by a “go, go, go” mentality. How can I get more accolades, more credentials, more validation?

We can all do more to extend more gratitude to the opportunities we do have, rather than always focusing on the next stage of the journey. Because if you spend too much time looking there, you miss the beauty of what’s in front of you. Patience is presence. Look at all you have right now — isn’t it all so special? Whether you realize it or not, what you are doing now is leading to the next thing. You just don’t see it yet.

Don’t worry. Don’t force it. 

Creativity will come to you.