The Garden

There is a monster who lives in me. He is the care taker of my garden which grows creativity. This monster he is incessant, obsessive, and has yet to take day off. He is a good gardener, great even, he just never stops. 

He is blue and fuzzy and has the cutest little horns in place of ears. He could care less if I harvest any of the different and strange things he grows. He’ll go on planting and weeding and watering and planting some more. Planting its his favourite. 


He never harvests, that’s my job. He will even go so far as to plant outside of the garden when it becomes too full. Setting up plant pots in any spare place he can find.When I fail to harvest from the garden what is grown there eventually dies and stinks up the whole place. 


I am an extremely creative person. So much so that when I fail to create my creativity becomes harmful. Taking over all of my functioning parts and wrecking mayhem. When I do nothing with the gift of my creativity it kills me. Or tries to. 


Creativity it needs an outlet. It cannot simply sit by all along it has to be used or it rots. And rot is infectious and it spreads fast in the soul. Creativity while a gift is not an idle tree that knows where it's supposed to grow. No creativity is more akin to dandelions. They don’t know where they aren’t suppose to grow, they only know that they must grow. It is part of their beauty. 


Creativity is a risk and not one all people are willing to take. But it is the only one I know. It is the only price I know how to pay. It really is a gift, the creativity, even when it feels like anything but a gift it remains. 


This monster of mine is a friend. One without ears but I’ve always loved him that way. He’s less likely to tell my secrets now isn’t he. He doesn’t have to hear me to know me. He’s always been here, simply planting away. I won’t have it any other way. Even if it would feel so much easier. 


It’s less about want and more about need isn’t it? Creativity its your heart speaking. Hearts don’t say what we want them to, they only speak their truth and they don’t care if we like it or not. They only care if we are paying enough attention to hear them. It’s not want. Creativity it’s need.


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