This is the story of a little boy who used to dance and sing and dream and paint and write.

He didn’t realize he was being creative when he did those things. He just did them because he loved them.

One day he looked at the drawings the other children in school were making, and he compared them to his own.

He decided theirs were better, so he stopped drawing.

He painted a picture and entered it in a contest, but he lost. So he stopped painting, too.

He kept writing, but his words became less playful and more serious.

He kept singing, but only when he was sure no one could hear him.

And he stopped dancing.

The years went by, and he felt a hunger inside him. He became a computer programmer, and sometimes felt the way he used to feel.

He didn’t realize it was because computer programming allowed him to be creative.

Then one day he decided to learn to play piano.

It was hard at first, and sometimes embarrassing. He made a lot of mistakes, but he never felt more alive than when he was making music, so he kept doing it.

Playing piano made him feel like he was dancing with his hands and singing with his heart.

Soon he stopped being so formal in his writing, and he allowed himself to dream again.

Eventually, he even allowed himself to draw.

This is my story, and these are my drawings.

I still draw like I did when I was a child, because I let comparison and perfectionism stop my progress.

But I’m no longer ashamed, and every day I give myself permission to be me.

One thing I know for certain is that I’ll never get better at something I don’t allow myself to do.

The creative child I used to be was always inside me, always encouraging me to live more fully.

I’m finally listening.

Join me.

www.creativeresurgence.com