When I think of the last two years that have passed me by so quickly, I can’t help but feel a little anxious. I wonder what I’ve been able to accomplish in the last year. Of course, I know I must be compassionate with myself, the last couple of years have been nothing short of bizarre: a global pandemic and quarantine, political and socio-economic stressors, and in the middle of all this, the tryst with academics, work, social relationships, and mental health. Whew. But this has not stopped the voice in my head from trying to measure my worth by how productive I was, and by how much I have to show for the time that has passed. Well, I’ll tell you what I have to show: nothing. zilch. nada.
This is not to say I have not done any work. It’s quite the opposite: I have probably never worked this hard in my life to ensure stability and safety, while also managing my existing responsibilities. Like most people around the world, I had to work hard to navigate pandemic circumstances. I worked especially hard on my academic and social engagements while maintaining my health, be it physical, mental, or spiritual. All of my time went into meeting various social expectations, work or academic deadlines, and health requirements. Like everyone around me, I was doing so much. Yet there was not much to show for all that effort, except maybe that I survived.
Right. I am still alive. I need to physically remind myself of this. I survived. I survived in a time when so many didn’t. And I’m grateful.
But this doesn’t mean that I have to ignore the things that hurt me. Most of us had to cradle disappointment, grief, or anger in some form or the other. We dealt with death, missed opportunities, muted celebrations, and the pangs of communal loneliness. And this is only the beginning of the list. There was so much taken from us during this pandemic that it feels insincere trying to even talk about it.
How does one move past these things? I’m thinking of the mental and physical trauma of a global pandemic that nobody was prepared for; the weight of being stuck in a system that measures our worth by how successful we are; the never-ending friction between the person that we are inside and the various societal expectations and restrictions imposed upon us. The fears, whether they be financial, social, or related to health, that we have learned to now carry with us everywhere. How do I even begin to try and take a step forward from here?
Though these aren’t questions with straightforward answers, after much trial and error, I have found comfort and value in privileging creativity as a central self-care tool. Of course, please remember that no amount of self-care can replace professional help where and when required. My message here is that using creativity is what helped me on my post-pandemic mental health journey.
So, what is creativity? I like to think of creativity as a condition that allows you to take existing ideas or problems and then produce something out of it. This can be through anything, whether it be an artistic or quotidian activity. Though this is quite vague a definition, it allows me to acknowledge that I am a creator just by choosing to live this life. I can take what I already know or have and make decisions to create something out of it. Now, how is this different from what we’re doing every day? Being conscious of our ability to create reminds me that I have the power to decide things for myself. In this way, I can direct and make my reality.
Creativity is thus in many ways the ultimate self-care tool. It allows you to remember that you are in control. This opens up a space for you to come to terms with your reality, which means acknowledging your current circumstances and even your needs. The next step is the actual creation using the resources you have, whether they are internal or external: whatever you end up creating, tangible or intangible, this process is a form of expression. It is often self-expression, but it is also sometimes a response to the things we experience in our lives.
I also like to think of creativity as a reliable and healthy long-term coping mechanism because it means I want things to be better. It means I can imagine a better future for myself and for others. A future that is rooted deeply in personal power, freedom, and growth. At the end of the day, no matter what we choose to do or not to do, by virtue of being human beings, we are filled with a limitless potential to create. Therefore, it is not how much we produce or what we produce that determines our value; rather, it is our ‘being’, or more ambitiously, our existence as our truest selves, whatever that means for each of us, that matters.
If all this sounds like naive optimism, I can understand. But after years of trying to figure out what helps me cope, I have found my answer in my reflections on creativity. It has been my reminder that we are all worthy just as we are, and the best thing we can do for ourselves is — just be ourselves.
My own journey has been full of highs and lows, peppered with periods of happiness and great self-esteem as well as periods of grief or excruciating doubt. Am I really a creator? And if I am, am I truly creating something valuable or meaningful enough to share? Someone once told me that we are all perpetually creating: we are expressing our creativity all the time through the little things we do in life, and all we need to do is acknowledge that and learn to systematically channel our energies in the ways we want. I like to think that everything we create is inherently valuable. But what has meaning and what doesn’t, is up to you. If you’re worried about what others think, that’s more than often out of your control. Self-care is, after all, about taking care of one’s own self.
It took me a long time to expand my definition of creativity beyond something like writing, doing art, or even making a business product. I felt like my creativity was usually best expressed through my writing: novels, poetry, letters, translation, anything with words. But in the early days of the pandemic, I found peace in doing nothing but listening to music all day and then playing the ukulele or keyboard while singing, to the dismay of my neighbours and family, at the top of my lungs. There was yet another packet of time when I indulged in gardening, trying to follow the life cycle of tomato and chilli pepper plants. Now, I have found myself drawn to social media as a form of self-expression and communication with others. Even when I’m not writing on it, there are a hundred other ways in which you can express yourself or engage in creative processes on these platforms. Exploring these things has been my latest engagement.
But figuring out what I want to do has not always been easy or intuitive. Sometimes, it takes a lot of reflection, time, and patience. And then accepting whatever it is that I want is usually even harder. Not only do I have to let go of social expectations, but I also have to decide that I am done negotiating with myself about the little details, waiting for the best time, for inspiration to strike, or for when I am ‘free’. I just keep waiting for the perfect conditions. Now I know that I can decide when the time is right. Once I truly understand what is in my control and what is not, I can let go. I can just trust myself and just do.
This blog right here is me learning to trust myself. This space has gone through so many changes in the last nine years. There have been periods where I did nothing here purely because I was afraid that I could never write the perfect article. There were times when I did not write because I didn’t think I deserved the title of writer. I didn’t think I was good enough. But time, a lot of self-care, great conversations with amazing people, and many inspiring books and essays have brought me to where I am right now: a state of conscious creative movement, progress, and self-care.
I began my journey back into writing (as with my many other creative pursuits) with baby steps. Starting is usually the most difficult part, especially when you’re coming out of the deep end of mental health struggles. You feel like you’ve lost so much of your capacity to create; you feel like you’re just too tired to do anything; you feel like you can never match up to your peers. But I’m mounting my fears and my struggles with small, but sure steps forward. I now know that it doesn’t even have to be the best step. Just forward.
To this end, a year ago, I started sharing freewriting exercises once a month for 12 months on this blog. It’s nothing big. They were small, nonsensical blog posts that probably do not make sense to anybody but me (though I will admit, they’re losing meaning to me as well now). But staying consistent with the exercise each month, posting it online for accountability at a time when nobody expected it from me, and seeing the project to fruition, all of this has done wonders for my self-esteem. It has helped me remember why I liked writing and the creative process in the first place.
I now try to stay committed to acknowledging, appreciating, and loving the person that I have become. I am inspired by the creative being that already exists within me, and I hope only that I continue honouring it going forward.
What has your creative journey been looking like? Have you had a chance to get in touch with your inner creative being recently?
This article was originally published in October, 2021. After much reflection and growth, and more importantly, after feeling much better health-wise, I have rewritten the article and re-published it in 2023.