Growing up, I felt sure I was not creative. That’s because my older sister, Katie was, and I was nothing like her. She could draw, I could not. She came up with amazing ideas, I copied hers instead.
I tried not to care. But part of me longed to make creativity more a part of my life. I loved hand-lettering, but thought basically, that’s just copying letters. I longed to draw better, but taking a class made me literally stab things with my pencil. I liked making stuff, but always used patterns, or felt like my sewing or crafting skills were sub-par. I even wanted to garden—except everything I cared for died.
Even worse, when I started trying the one kind of creativity I might have talent for—writing—I procrastinated the time I had to practice away. I felt lazy and bewildered.
I never felt creative or artistic enough for it to count.
But it turns out that the insecurity I felt had nothing to do with whether I was creative. Indeed, by assuming I needed to be creative like my sister, and shaming myself for my struggles, I ignored my kind of creativity.
Still, despite myself, creativity slowly changed everything. It filled my life with joy, ingenuity, resilience, and wholeness.
I think the same is true for you, whether you feel artistic or not. Because I think all humans are creative, and owning our particular kind of creativity helps us survive with joy.
You are creative: whether you have enough time to be creative, whether you are too lazy to feel creative, or whether you’ve never had an original idea in your life.
I’ve created a creative personality test to help you discover what kind of creative you are, and to help you embrace that creativity without trying harder, doing more, or being someone you’re not. Take the test here.
More About Me
Here’s my official, writerly bio:
Heather Caliri is a writer, artist and editor whose work has appeared at Christianity Today, The Other Journal, Fathom Magazine, Harpur Palate, and The Literary Journal. She talks and draws about awkward faith on Instagram and lives in San Diego with her husband and two daughters.
You don’t know me until you know this:
- I live in San Diego with my husband and two kids, in the same (general) region I’ve been in since junior high.
- Growing up, both my siblings lived at an institution called Sunshine Acres Christian Children’s Home. Why? I’m still asking that question thirty-five years later.
- I was a working child actor that met Leonardo DiCaprio before he was a thing, and once told Kenny Rogers he was a liar. Before I was fourteen, I also starred in a professional production of Annie, danced with the San Francisco Ballet, and qualified for gifted and talented programs throughout school.
- Not unrelated to the previous two bullets, I had the teensiest mental breakdown after graduating from college.
- Speaking of mental illness, I have been caught off guard by it a total of three times: the time after college, postpartum, and realizing I was swimming in anxiety in my thirties.
- I love Jesus, and also experienced spiritual abuse in the church—which I didn’t realize till my thirties. Healing is complicated and beautiful.
- I’ve also found out about other kinds of abuse in my life much after the fact. That’s not fun.
- Notice a theme of discovering ugliness hidden under the surface of normal? As a result, I am addicted to really real honesty.
- I’ve pretty much always been wealthy, and that often feels shameful. But acknowledging my wealth is part of really-real reality for me.
- Though I don’t throw f-bombs often, I have a soft spot for cussing. Here’s why.
- I’m tidy to a fault, mostly because I’m severely absent minded. Don’t judge me for being a little like Adrian Monk and I will bless whatever state of (un)tidiness you’re in.
- I homeschooled my kids from preschool through 8th grade because after growing up with siblings in institutions I ached to keep my kids home. Still there are very fair social justice objections to homeschooling. Despite my own ambivalence, homeschooling healed a lot for me.
- Homeschooling did not mean I was Mary Poppins. I once tried making a spreadsheet to help me figure out how to play with my toddler. Guess how well that worked?
- Much to my surprise, I’ve been at the same church for more than thirty years, and have recently served as an elder.
Things that Save My Life:
- Any book written by those who aren’t “normal” (normal being code for white, upper-class, able-bodied, straight, cis, free of mental illness, and achievement-oriented) I’m set free by learning from the marginalized because they are splendidly in touch with reality.
- Leading a very (very!) slow-paced life.
- Sabbath.
- Staying rooted in my childhood church, and being uncomfortably honest there.
- Making stuff by hand, mending, crafting, crocheting, and creating art that makes no money.
- Goal setting, planning, and daily creativity. Spreadsheets are much more effective for me than for toddlers.
- Remembering that goals are more about intention, not achievement. Or trying to remember this (it’s a work in progress).
- Bullet Journaling. It helps me remember stuff, serves as my sketchbook and reminds me I am worthy of beautiful things. (I have a cameo in this book).
- My capsule wardrobe, which allows me to embrace the tension of loving beautiful clothes, getting anxious about them, and also trying to live simply.
- Eating the same breakfast every day. Eggs, toast, tea.
- Reading and watching murder mysteries—the kind that are in no way violent. Here are some of my faves.
Are you just slightly obsessive like me? Here are more ways to connect:
- Subscribe and get the down-low on what I’m up to.
- I would love to know what’s saving your life—let me know here. I try to respond to all reader emails when possible, and definitely pray for each person that writes in.
- Follow me on Instagram for some slightly awkward art.
- Read some of the writing I’m most proud of here.