A few years ago I watched a film called Miss Potter about children’s author Beatrix Potter. It was the first time in my life that I watched a story of someone’s life, and childhood, and could say, “Yes, that’s me.”
The way that Miss Potter’s stories and creativity flowed from her pen, or paintbrush, and onto the paper was awe-inspiring to me.
I cannot deny the fact that I too was designed and fashioned in a way to be wholly creative and imaginative. My mind is my own, and inside of it lies countless stories and enough creative desires and dreams to last multiple lifetimes.
I may not be the next Beatrix Potter, but there’s no use in denying my creativity and eccentricity when it comes to my imagination and the lengths I’ll go in my own storytelling.
Recently I have been digging deeper into my creative soul, and letting myself be who I am, fully and without shame or embarrassment.
Two people who understand my eccentric and imaginative stories, and truly appreciate them, are my two young daughters Penelope and Georgia. We recently moved our daughters, who will be 3 and 5 in May, into the same bedroom.
I’ve been wanting to make a “theme” for their room, but was unsure what would be a suitable theme for my two growing girls. One night it came to me: we’d create a Fairyland. Together we would build and dream of a creative space where we could let our imaginations run free, and tell lofty stories that would create lasting and joy-filled memories.
I went to my local craft store and purchased coloured mason jars, filled them with colourful stones, and glued a fairy and her pet frog in one. In the next we made a little home, where the fairy flies to in the night. We hung the fairy and her home from the ceiling, away from clumsy and sticky fingers.
Some mornings when I’m getting washed and dressed in the bathroom I can hear my daughters talking to their fairy friend, and I am thrilled to watch their creative spirits shine.
Earlier this month we decorated fairy doors together and attached them to little corners of their room. We dream of many different worlds that the doors could lead to, and some nights, when the fairy ventures through one of the doors, she will leave little clues behind for us.
One morning the girls found tiny books no bigger than their fingertip at one of the doors. We don’t know if the fairy dropped them while in a hurry or left them as a gift, but we wonder and dream together.
Some nights while lying in bed I tell my daughters about the dreams and stories I made up as a child. I share stories of furry bunnies living in the bottom of a tree, the types of foods that the woodland critters of my dreams would eat, and the fun times I would have with them in my imagination.
As my oldest daughter grows her imagination has grown with her. Her mind stretches and finds new worlds to discover, and together we share them.
Right now our greatest creative pursuit is the Fairyland we’ve created in their room. A magical space that holds our dreams and our wondrous spirits, and the excitement of a childhood unspoiled.
I hope as my children grow they won’t forget about the worlds we dreamed of together. For now, I’ll keep sprinkling as much fairy dust and magic as I can, and enjoy the wonder and joy of their childhood.
