Ever since I can recall, creating things makes me happy. Doesn’t matter if it’s a simple craft, a sewing endeavor, working with leather, writing, baking or cooking, etc. As long as I’m allowed to flex my creative muscles, I’m a happy camper.
One of the things that make me happiest is to recycle items. Course, I’ve been engaging in this since way before recycling became popular. For me, recycling translates into my taking something old or that’s no longer serving its purpose in its present state and then I remake it into something new.
When I was little, I did this all the time to create toys to play with. When my husband and I embarked on a life together, we were young and had no money, so I needed to crank my creative cap into high gear. I loved every minute of that. Then, when we began to have kids, I opted to share my passion for creating with them, by being a living example.
I don’t think a day went by without my four children watching me create something, a broad smile upon my face. Some of those items flopped. Others were passable but not quite what I’d hoped for. Then there were the ones that made me stand back in awe of what I’d created. I especially loved the latter occasions.
Ironically, I’m really easy-going when it comes to others being creative. I appreciate their mere effort and am thrilled with whatever the results. But me…that’s a different story.
When I delve into creating something, I think it through and push myself to deliver the very best I can. Again, sometimes my creations fall short of my mark, but at least I try. On the occasions where everything falls into place and my finished products are worthy of making me pause to take notice, those are priceless times. They’re the ones when my heart feels lightest. When I feel almost invincible. When I smile so broadly and with such enthusiasm that my cheeks hurt from the effort.
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