Not a super flexy slender Yoga chick talks "the Power of Creativity"

You don’t have to be an artist to be creative. You don’t have to like glitter, own a paintbrush, carve wood, or even be particularly good at singing in the shower (though, let’s be honest, that’s where most of my Grammy-worthy performances happen). Creativity isn’t just about what you make, it’s about how you see things. And no, I’m not talking about your eyes. I’m talking about that deeper way of seeing, the one that helps you dance through chaos, respond to discomfort, and breathe color into dull days. It’s what gets you out of autopilot and back into soul mode.

Creativity is that little rebel inside you who still believes in magic. And here’s the thing: it’s your birthright. You were born creative. Think back for a second. Did you ever have creative block in kindergarten? Of course not. You built kingdoms out of couch cushions, your Barbies or Legos starred in award-winning soap operas, you held tea parties with stuffed animals and had serious heart-to-hearts with imaginary friends. That wasn’t “just imagination.” That was pure creation, raw and unapologetic, life-force-level magic.

And then we grew up. And got graded forcing us to measure ourselves. Or someone told us we weren’t “good at it.” We started tying creativity to performance, perfection, and productivity. Ew. But the truth is, that spark is still inside you, waiting to be remembered. Not every idea needs to become a side hustle. Not every doodle needs to be sold to the Louvre. Some things are just for you to make you feel good or to shake off the dust. It’s to slip out of your head and back into your aliveness.

Take my boring black suitcase, for example. I doodled all over it. Nothing fancy, just a marker and a mood. It felt great, even though it wasn’t “useful” or Instagram-worthy. That’s the beauty of it. Creativity heals because it bypasses logic. It doesn’t ask for permission, it doesn’t need to make sense. Even something as simple as a breath, if you do it with awareness, can be a creative act.

Yoga reminded me of this. On the mat, we repeat Asanas. But then, some days, something spontaneous happens. A shape your body asks for, not because a teacher said so, but because your cells remembered something you forgot. That’s creativity too. It’s ancient, it’s sacred. It’s what gets you through the third round of Kapalabhati when your brain says “nah” but your spirit says “just try.” It’s what makes you laugh when your balance is trash and helps you keep moving when life feels messy. It’s choosing to stay open even when nothing is working.

And it doesn’t just live in art class. It’s in the way you move, you dress, you season your food, you tell stories, you problem-solve, you live. So try weird things, mess them up, and get over it. Paint terribly. Sing off-key. Wear that ridiculous hat. Put cinnamon in your curry (I don’t think this is the most outrageous thing). Rearrange your furniture just because you can. Clean out your closet and sort everything by color. Make a glorious mess on purpose. That’s rebellion, that’s freedom, and that’s where the alchemy lives.

And don’t wait to be inspired, because you are the inspiration. Yes, YOU. Your heartbreak, your early mornings, your clumsy dancing, your half-finished journals, your deep sighs in traffic, your questionable obsession with funny accents or Mongolian throat singing, it all counts.

In many traditions, creativity is the feminine face of the divine. Shakti. Saraswati. The hum that sang the universe into being. Creation is the essence of life itself. Every time you express from a place of truth, whether it’s a mandala, a doodle, a meal, or a moment of presence, you are plugging directly into that sacred power source.

You don’t have to do anything epic. Just start. Doodle while you’re on hold. Sing in the car. Move your body weirdly in the kitchen. Light a candle and stare at it like it’s a portal (spoiler: it is). Creativity isn’t the cherry on top of life, it is life. And it’s waiting for you to remember.