On gratitude for my creative ability in a world that doesn't often value it

I don’t know about you, but as the end-of-year holidays approach, the largest and loudest feeling I feel is gratitude.

The festive season and the longer nights make me cozy up to awareness of what I have, rather than focusing on what I don’t have. And I don’t mean material possessions. I am grateful for good relationships with my friends and family, especially my young son; but beyond my support system, I am most grateful for my ability to make art. An artist I admire recently said something to the effect of, “We can create ourselves out of darkness.”

The world is a frightening place for many of us right now. Towns, states, and nations are divided on political and social issues, and the bickering is drowning out understanding of our shared values and basic humanity while the least fortunate and most vulnerable among us suffer. When the headlines get me down, I do what I’ve always done when I despair: I turn to the page. It might seem like a small, inconsequential thing. It might seem like romanticized insularity. But I do it because it is the most me part of me, and it helps me center myself so I can be a better citizen.

I also believe that, as a wise woman once said to me:

Every time I sit down to write, I’m energizing the best and fullest part of my human capacities: thought, self-expression, imagination, creativity. I’m also acting from a loving impulse: the desire to share the best aspects of my humanity with others in such a way that their own capacities are enlarged…I am putting something good, beautiful and true into the world every time I sit down to write.

Can we change the world with art and creative energy? Perhaps not by themselves. Can we change the world without art and creative energy? I believe no. I believe, to the ground, absolutely not.

I feel tremendous gratitude for my creative capacity. Day after day, I choose to nourish this capacity, to make art with words and create myself out of the figurative darkness I so often feel. The winter season also reminds me that dominant darkness is cyclical, and that darkness can be a time for reflection and rejuvenation.

As the year winds down, my wish for you is a similar sense of gratitude for your ability to create, and the endless possibilities therein. Stay warm, woke, and wonder-filled.

This post first appeared as a letter from the director on the blog for the Center for Creative Writing. I am the Center's director, and this is my original content.