It’s all about autonomy, really. Artists of every sort, those who live the life of self-imposed creativity, are immeasurably capable of self-fulfillment. That’s how we keep from needing others in unhealthy ways.
I learned this the hard way – utterly alone – at a point in my life when romance was undeniably a bad idea. In the wake of that choice, there were a few open evenings. Well, okay, there were a lot of open evenings. Thus, there was no one to crave, nothing but time and energy available, and an artist was born.
This had apparently been sitting idle for years – this raw potential. I am not implying I never created anything before. Of course I did – but almost always it was to serve someone else, or to fuel my insatiable ego. All that had changed now. I was ready to die my spiritual death and be born anew – creating for no other reason than to create!
Once the creator in me took hold, I knew nothing would ever love me more than this. This thing, this space, these tools, these dreams, fresh ideas, clear visions, and possibilities crashed upon my life, a tidal wave of flourishing color. These mysterious elements would forever sustain me.
This art was, for me, writing, but it was also painting, and would now be the very thing that brought me to a place of self-love, and true self-reliance. I admit it bled into everything now – relentless reading, gorgeous meals for one, running across the city with Tool playing in my ears. Sitting still to breathe deep and stare at a candle. Life just turned into a tapestry of gold. I could spend hours and days by myself. Time ceased to matter when I was in the artist zone. Even stopping to sleep or eat was at times a nuisance. Yet, even sleeping and eating were beautiful too.
So when my partner came into my life, I had a new set of conditions – much greater than I had had before. I would need a champion now. Because there was no way I would ever surrender my art, my soul, for any other human. No human requiring it would be worthy. Thus, it was clear that my new partner would not only understand this, but would not want it any other way. I would be loved by someone who loved me because of my creative self, because I could fill my own cup, because of my mind and my intuition, and the courage and drive needed to be that person.
I would only love someone who could love themselves; therefore, I would not be responsible for their self-esteem, nor their egomania. We would form such a love as to thrive in each other’s world. We would create together and apart. We would adore this thing because there is so little fear. Why fear losing someone when you know perfectly well your art and soul will be there for you no matter what?
Yes, of course, I have to balance it all in order to keep it. You don’t get that sort of partner for nothing. Nonetheless, life is better now. Because I am better. Because I have owned my right to create.
