Cabin Fever

Life in the hills of the Massif Central has slowed this week. Well frankly it's stopped completely. Blizzards and temperatures reaching minus very parky have left the minor roads impassable. This is hardly unexpected, nor particularly outrageous in a European, let alone world context. But it's meant that our little family has been spending more time together than usual.

I might have expected a bit of cabin fever after 5 days, and it has been nice to retreat into my enclave, known rather unimaginatively as 'the office'. But it's been inspiring really, particularly Chloe being off school. We've been able to get into all sorts of things that we wouldn't have done otherwise. Her imagination and creative approach is genuinely inspiring and occasionally breathtaking.

She's a constant reminder of many of the wonderful things about being human, and particularly the creative, playful, passionate stuff that I and many others lost touch with as we went through school. As Hugh McLeod pointed out in how to be creative, 'Everyone is born creative; everyone is given their box of crayons...'

I'm still finding it tough to apply all the wonderful tips and ideas about being more creative to my life, and my salvation is Chloe. Playing and exploring ideas just for the hell of it is just OK with her. Even more important than work; although not to the extent of ratting on commitments or deadlines of course. So we've worked on Chloe's first book. Her illustrations are complete, the storyline's sorted, and half of it's written. We've played dice and got some good practice in mental and written addition along the way. And started a little Chloe family tree using Word and scanners and photos. Then there's the recorder tunes, (no really it doesn't sound that bad!) Made tissue paper dolls, played in the snow, painted some pictures and, well, loads more stuff.

One of the tough things I find is guilt about playing when I should be working, all driven by insecurity over earning a crust. I suspect moving into the rural middle of nowhere France hasn't helped my career prospects , but it sure as hell beats commuting in the southeast of England. Of course the secret is to liberate myself from this idea, to dissolve the distinction in my mind between work and play, to roll it all up into one perfectly integrated rounded life. That, after all, was the whole idea, 5 years ago, which led us here in the summer of 2003. But it's taking a while, and earning a crust is a constant challenge, spearheaded by my Blue Sky efforts.

Mind you, a major part of the whole idea is yet missing, and that makes a big difference. The wonderful advantages to creative thinking of being outside your habitual environment are all part of that. But there's something paradoxical about moving to such a place - there's a serious risk of it becoming habitual!

So the snow has been a creative treat, and a reminder that a little enforced freedom can be a real blessing. And a bright sparkly 7 year old is a really big bonus.