Do you remember the first time you felt that sensation in the pit of your stomach? As if a spark of passion ignited a roaring fire consuming you with the feeling that, in that moment, you began a trajectory for something greater—the realisation of your creative passion. This spark ignited a creative fire that burned so bright in me that just like molten metal, it forged who I am today and how I view the world. But it’s easy to forget about that spark while navigating through life. The path to rediscovery is one where we remind ourselves the impact of that first ignition.
Curiosity is the spark
When we were little, we imagined our lives around what we loved. If you loved dinosaurs, you wanted to be an archaeologist. If you loved space, you wanted to be an astronaut. If you loved music, you dreamed of being a famous musician.
I was ten years old when I held my very first guitar. I had no idea how to play, but I begged my parents for one. On my tenth birthday, when I opened that case, I was so careful, like a curator handling a relic. This guitar was the most valuable object I’d ever owned. Along with it, I received a chord chart poster—another piece of the relic.
I learned to play the keyboard, but it didn’t pull at me with that same fascination. But that guitar? It ignited dreams of my future, even though I didn’t yet know how to play it. That’s how powerful passion can be. It can provide a sense of invincibility in the face of overwhelming obstacles.
Realisation is the ignition
I remember the moment that feeling hit me—when I played two chords in a rhythmic strum sequence and made a smooth single transition between them. I hadn’t taken lessons yet, but by looking at the chord chart, I figured out where to put my fingers and strummed like I’d imagined. Somehow, it all came together perfectly. That was it. The spark that ignited the creative fire in me and every cell in my body lit up like fireworks. I knew I was meant to create music that could inspire others.
My mom used to tell the same story to her friends about how I’d always get annoyed when asked to play the keyboard. But when it came to guitar, she’d quote me saying, “When I play with my guitar, it comes from the heart.” Even now, decades later, I hear her voice, full of pride, and it brings a tear to my eye.
The insatiable appetite of creative fire
At thirteen, I got my first electric guitar, and it felt like I had been given the world. Every day, I played it at full volume, my little 10w amp making the walls tremble with each strum! By high school, I was the guitarist in a rock band, feeling invincible. I’ll never forget performing for the first time on stage at twelve, playing “Superman” by Five for Fighting at a school music night. I was so nervous, but nothing has ever matched the adrenaline and dopamine I felt stepping off that stage. That feeling was addictive; it added fuel to the fire and invincibility felt everlasting.
By the following year, I asked for drum lessons, and of course, they agreed. I still remember my first lesson: my teacher taught me to count and hit the drum in a sequence. Surprisingly, I got it right on the first try, my air-drumming apparently pre-teaching my brain rhythm and coordination. But that still wasn’t enough to feed my insatiable appetite for music creation.
I’ve been singing as long as I can remember, but I’d never called myself a “singer.” I’d sing in my room with my guitar and write my own songs. I find gratification in hearing the harmony in every song because of the complementary effect it has. In the band, I’d sing backup but never allowed myself to believe I could be the lead. Yet the fire inside kept burning, pushing me to share my voice. And each time I did, that fire raged through me with a wild intensity that propelled clarity and desire in my being.
The slow destruction of invincibility
Creativity, in essence, is just that—a voice. Whether through writing, music, dance, or any form of art, it’s our way to organize and interpret the chaos in our minds.
Creating something from your own emotions, interpretations and experiences that can connect with others fulfils a deeper purpose, one that gives us validation and a sense of belonging. It makes our passions tangible, real, and more than just abstract ideas.
When we were younger, passion was unwavering because we felt invincible; it was our suit of armour. We believed in our creative potential because we had every opportunity to explore it. But with every opportunity, awareness of failure and disappointment grow. It invites the entry of rejection and self-doubt as the feeling of invincibility slowly dissipates, leaving you completely exposed. The fear of uncertainty that your creative ambition and identity is not enough to actualise your dreams is paralysing so you allow yourself to dilute your passion and settle for the acceptable, rather than the greatness you believed.
The journey to rediscovery
Dan Koe once wrote, “Most people live a quietly anxious life because they know they should be doing something other than what they’re doing, but don’t do anything about it… so they keep doing the same thing to numb the pain that comes with change”.
So, let yourself feel that invincibility again. Rediscover your creative passion by revisiting your origin story like I just did. Throughout the process of writing this first blog post and recounting the influence on my identity, it’s awoken a dormant feeling—creative purpose. I realise now that no matter how long it’s been or how lost you may seem, creativity will pour out the moment you open that vessel. In order to reignite that fire, you need to find who you used to be and understand how that one spark became the catalyst of your creative identity and start from there.
When was the first time you felt that spark, igniting the fire inside you?
Leave a Reply