Creative

I hear people say that their work is not creative enough.  “Wasn’t God the Creator?  Are we not in the image of God?”  And so it goes.  But even God was not always creative.  Did not God send the rain?  Rain cleans things up.  It is of service to growing things.  And we need it rather regularly if we want to avoid a desert.  So a lot of work is repetitive, like rain, and this can keep us from grandiosity, while making us aware of our right size ego.  My mother cooked day after day.  She was creative to some extent, but she was of service.  She cleaned the house on a regular basis as a service.  Poor me, for whom cleaning a bathroom was beneath me, did not get humble, right-sized, or mature.  When you take care of elderly and dying relatives, it is repetitive but of great service, and so uplifting if we can get away from self-absorbed grandiosity.  ME is not the center of the universe.  I will keep all this in mind when pushing a mop or vacuum cleaner at the monastery.  Caring for others is creative.