The Challenge for Creatives

Every day, I think about what I *should* write about. I think about how my sometimes-gift with words can be used in the best possible way to manifest change, support others, address the inequities in our country and beyond.

To not write about these things seems to, on some level, ignore them.

Last month, I made the decision to leave social media (I haven’t returned) for the sole purpose that I – not you or you or you – could possibly carry on with shiny happy posts about all the little good things that were going on in my life. To me, that seemed to ignore the turmoil, the racism, the suppression, the intentional acts against others.

And, to be honest, I could not support platforms created and manipulated by people who were contributing to the horrible list of inequities provided above.

The result?

The same result that I have experienced for much of the last decade: paralysis.

If I write about love or nature, or if I spin a good horror story, of if I write a book review, am I guilty of ignoring what is happening all around me? Us?

Then I think about the books and poetry I have been reading lately by authors such as TJ Klune, Edgar Allan Poe, Stephen King, Emily and Charlotte Bronte, RF Kuang, Seanan McGuire, Ada Limon and others. In nearly every story or poem that I have read, none of these writers seemed hung up on the political and social upheavings happening all around them. Instead, they wrote good stories, good poems, and I have savored every single one of them because of the quality of storytelling.

Yes. Despite the chaotic, sometimes tornadic activity swirling around them, they somehow managed to rise above all of it and still write good stories and poems.

I guess what I am saying is that it is okay to not carry the weight to use that sometimes-gift to be a political or social commentator. Maybe I can leave that up to the brilliant essay writers and orators who raise their pens and voices in unparalleled ways.

And although my degrees are in such forms of communication, my heart lies in the worlds of the imaginative, the speculative, the outrageously beautiful and terrifying.

I am good with that.

Ninety-five percent of the music I listen to now is instrumental, and while these composers are driven by their own muses to create such pieces, not a single one of them reminds me of what is happening outside my window.

In movies and in art, while I see allusions made to the inequities abound, I generally see a canvas painted with images and illusions of greater stories brought forth by the deep imaginations of their creators.

For many. I can understand how social media might work the same way. But I, personally, cannot continue to support the creators of such platforms, nor tolerate the hatred spewed so openly in comments and public posts.

So, my fellow creatives, be you. Dance your dance, paint your painting, craft your story. Whether that be in mystical hues or lyrical ballads, be you. Do you.

And do not feel guilty about ignoring the storm outside the window. There are plenty of us inside, safe and warm, craving your words and songs and images to keep us, frankly, sane.