When Creativity Gets Postponed

Women, mothers, caregivers. Between carrying the household’s mental load, doing the chores, and caregiving, free time becomes a luxury. Add in a profession or business, and free time begins to look like Mt. Everest. 

What often gets lost in these equations isn’t just creativity, but ourselves. Endlessly postponing creativity dulls us, leaving us to forget what it feels like to be fully present in our own lives.

There is an unspoken belief that creativity is what you do after life calms down. It’s an indulgence, reward, or distraction. The cherry on top of a pile of work and exhaustion. Sure. After scrubbing a toilet, wiping a bottom, and sitting in front of a computer, I’ll take mindless doom scrolling and a brainless show over making another mess that I’ll have to clean up.

“Someday” creativity morphs into “never.” 

But what if creativity isn’t a reward? What if it’s part of how we stay human, connected, and sane?

What if creativity is not a luxury to return to when life feels manageable?

When Creativity Was Tied to Pain

Here’s an honest confession. Depression has punctuated my life for decades, sometimes as a semi-colon between months, and other times as a period marking whole seasons. During those darker seasons, writing became both a refuge and a trap.

Creativity turned into a place to disappear, linger, and bleed on the page. Over time, I associated creating with circling pain instead of moving through it. Eventually, I began to run away from it altogether. 

If my creativity had been shaped by suffering and loss, what would happen when I began to heal?

And if I wasn’t hurting, would I still know how to create?

For a long time, I wondered whether my creativity could coexist with healing, so I avoided writing in case I didn’t like the answer. I told myself that I was choosing to be healthy.

During this pause, I became a mother. 

Motherhood and Creative Dormancy

My son arrived early and spent a month in the NICU. Once he came home, I went into survival mode, learning how to be a mom. Discovering the pain and joy of being a working, single mom. I didn’t write unless you count dozens of proud mommy Instagram posts, which I don’t. 

It’s not like my creative fire disappeared. I simply poured it out into other avenues. 

Caring for my son. Being present for all of his first milestones. Managing a crazy schedule.

I didn’t lose myself in motherhood, but certain parts of me went dormant, gently waiting for a time when I could revisit them. 

Sometimes, creativity looks like survival. It looks like endurance and making difficult choices out of duty and love.

Merely surviving, though, can cause us to lose our gravity and become untethered. 

The Cycle of Novelty Without Rootedness

When I stopped intentionally honoring my creativity through writing, I found myself cycling through hobbies, as if I were looking for my next dopamine fix. 

Knitting, crocheting, painting, weaving, embroidery—these are just a few of the crafts I took up. Research the craft with intense hyper focus? Check. Buy all the legit supplies? Check. Hit up YouTube University? Check. Master enough skills to throw down 5 to 6 creations? Check. Obsession resolved? Check, check. Move on. Repeat. 

(Side bar: If you’re wondering if I’ve researched if I have ADHD…yes. Yes, I have. But I’m not arrogant enough to diagnose myself, and it hasn’t come up in therapy.)

These cycles left me obsessed with storage systems to organize all my craft supplies. I am currently on restriction from buying containers. Truth.

The maddening pattern also provided stimulation, escape, novelty, and meditative calm. 

The problem is that the cycle left me unrooted, impatient for the next obsession, and lacking any real depth of knowledge. It’s not that I was failing to be creative. But I was practicing it without any true commitment or meaning.

Diving deeper into my faith caused an internal rift I dreaded. 

When Creativity Becomes a Source of Approval

Whether I meant to or not, creativity has brought me attention, which led to a need for approval and increased productivity. I no longer want to be driven by that. That way lies an empty pit. It’s not that I dislike what I wrote before. I don’t. I’m so very proud of my published works and honored by the love they received.

It’s my longings that have changed. Perhaps it’s my age. Or it could be motherhood or a response to a thousand other things. Whatever caused it, my focus has changed. I’m not seeking outward approval. I’m showing up where I’m at, staying put, and being present. 

Lasting, impactful love hasn’t come my way through what I achieve. It’s been given through small, repeated acts of care that often went unnoticed. 

“My heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.” – Psalm 28:7

The lack of discipline I’ve lived, and the darkness I’ve chased haven’t served me well. They are a part of who I am and part of my journey, but they don’t have to define me. Lately, creativity has begun to feel less like a drive for self-expression and more like a way God is shaping me. Big gestures and intensity aren’t necessary to experience a life well lived. Faithfulness comes in little packages. It comes in gentle, quiet, ordinary moments, and spiritual stillness.

A Quieter Way of Being Creative

Stillness asks something different of me. It asks me to stay rather than chase, and to tend to what I have rather than accumulate. It asks me to allow boredom, to make room for imperfection, and to accept creativity that unfolds slowly rather than arriving in brilliant flashes. 

These days, creativity looks quieter, showing up as returning to the same page instead of starting a new project. I’m noticing how the light falls on our rooster’s feathers and how soft my bunny’s fur is. I can write a single paragraph and pause, rather than obsessively writing until I’m emptied out.

My work may not always feel exhilarating, and sometimes it may feel unfinished. Still, it feels honest and rooted in the life I’m actually living.

Creativity is not a luxury. It’s part of leading a full, faithful life.

Creativity as Faithfulness

It doesn’t happen apart from my responsibilities or pull me away from what matters. Creativity occurs in real time alongside the caregiving, the work, the fatigue, and the ordinary days. Integration is an invitation.

I don’t have to make room for creativity. It’s already built into the world I inhabit, and I simply have to be attentive enough to notice it and tend to what God has already placed in my reach.

So, no starting a massive project that I’ll abandon midway. No guilt. No offering up darkness and pain as a prerequisite for creating. I don’t have to be consistent, monetize my work, or build toward a dramatic finish. Achievement isn’t the goal. Companionship and faithfulness are.

I hope you’ll join me in arriving at a quieter way to be creative by staying right where you are.