The Anxiety-Creativity Link

What could it mean if you translated your anxiety differently?

Instead of feeling that sinking in your stomach and thinking- I need to eat, I need to workout, I'm down, I'm low

You instead thought- Man! I need to write some slam poetry.-Whoa, I need to go out dancing for a night on the town.

How do we translate our inner twitches, our fumbling spirits, our anger spurts and our jealous rollercoasters?

Is it possible that it is just a sign, just an indication, that there is something lacking, and that something is involved in an art form?

Is it possible that we were created beings that were meant to sing, meant to paint, meant to wonder and live fully in an artistic creative way...

Not only are we humans because we can plan out our lives, develop our own projectile motions, not only are we human because of our left brain functioning but what other species on Earth knows how to translate the darkness into light?

What other being, species, life form in this universe can see a horror, can witness a miracle, and translate that physical act into an idea, an idea that uplifts other spirited beings, through the arts.

And yet,we fail to see the sensationalism in this existence, we fail to see how this separates us from every single other living/breathing/existing creation, and what that must imply for its necessity- that we are meant to rejoice, to create, to synthesis what we see into another creation.

So maybe that's what that anxiety is. maybe it's Gd's way of pulling on our heartstrings and telling us, there's something different, there's something more to give, as we feel the inner animalistic yearnings to take

Maybe that anxiety is just our yetzer hora's way of distracting us from the greatest of all human expressions, it's blocking our eyes, tiring our limbs.

And before we reach for the pill, before we trudge to the gym, before we fill our bodies with vitamin b 6 and 12 (and all of those things can be very good), maybe we should first start tapping our feet, turning on our favorite song and hear it whistling through our system, reviving our blood.

Maybe we should crack out those brushes and paints gathering dust on the shelves, listen to a comedy routine and then make up our own

hum a melody and learn the harmonica

listen to the depths of a shuir and be blown away by its beauty

live creative, human lives that give back life.

Take that anxiety, take that fear, you can't stop me from grooving to the beat.

And suddenly we see, that those with the most anxiety are also those with the most light in their souls that just needs to be released.

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As the darkness falls upon the situation in Israel, likewise, we must do the opposite.

To reach into  that darkness and find the beauty, find the light,

and give back.

Grabbing the greatest instruments that we were given; the brush, the piano, the pen, and most importantly of all, our voice.

And sing.

No one can stop us.