My aunt would buy a lottery ticket each week, even though she didn’t have much money. She would say, ‘If you don’t give luck an opening, how do you expect it to find its way to you?’

Long story, but my aunt wasn’t a very lucky person. Her plan didn’t work, and truth is, she probably could have saved her money by not throwing some of it away weekly on a lottery ticket that never came good.

But the idea of leaving an opening is a good one, and I think it’s particularly relevant for creative endeavours. Because frankly, how does creativity come to us, if we don’t leave it an opening. With no space, time, or opportunity, how do new ideas find their way to us?

We live in crowded times. There is so much opportunity to be involved in things about which we’re passionate, but there is also so much other stuff. Work, whether it’s passion or obligation, and other commitments. These take our time, and heap more stuff onto our pile of things to do. Sometimes I imagine that pile, and it literally makes my head hurt. Some days it feels like a mountain of stuff that fills all the brain and heart space I possess, and presses against that door to creativity that I am desperately trying to keep open.

Sometimes it seems easier just to give in. To do all the things that actually have to be done, that are a necessity, just to get some order in the house, to feel in control. But this can be a misguided notion. The more we give in to the things that have to be done, to the more task-based, administrative elements of our lives, the less we devote to other elements that matter a great deal. Some of these days, when I think about my creative endeavours, I start to view them as time lost, or as frivolities. They’ll never amount to much, so why waste time I don’t have working on something that will never pay off? A little voice at the back of my head sends a powerful message: If this writing is what keeps you feeling sane, alive, passionate and… just plain good, then keep at it. Fight to make time. Insist on finishing. No matter what, keep inching forward. Keep adding to the work so that it continues to grow, rather than to grow distant and diminished.

And so, this is my lottery ticket. A determination to keep going, to keep chipping away at the work, to refuse to give up. It is the only guarantee that someday, somehow, there will be a work of substance on which to put the finishing touches of paint. If I stop, then there will surely be nothing at the end. The door to opportunity will have been slammed shut.