It’s April, with weather so gorgeous you can’t stay inside, but all of those final projects mean you have to. I usually spend this time of year holed up in the library, writing four papers at one time, staring out the window, low-key-hating everything.

Honestly, April is just busier than normal for the average college kid. Between internships, coursework, part-time jobs, planning for the future and (maybe) actual sleep, our days don’t have a lot of extra space. In the lineup of classes this semester I picked up a poetry workshop, and that’s when I realized I’d lost something in all the mayhem. As an English major, I write a lot. This class flipped a switch in my brain.

I missed doing things without any expectations, without any pressure. I missed creating, and I missed doing it for fun.

Our world is pretty weird when it comes to creativity. Objectively -- sure, it’s great, think outside the box, give the kids some finger paint and crayons. But when it comes down to our productivity driven culture and our hectic day-to-day lives as adults, creativity gets bumped down on the priority list. It’s not that practical. Are you going to study for your final or pull out a sketchbook? After a stressful day at work, would you rather switch off and binge TV, or are you going to give yourself a headache brainstorming poems? When the rubber hits the road, I think a lot of us either write creativity off as something for other people (the artists, the musicians, the writers of the world) or are just too busy to make it work. Not everybody has time to write or money to splurge on acrylic paint.

Here’s the thing: everybody does have that time. Creativity doesn’t belong to geniuses. It’s everyday people carving out 10 minutes a day in between classes and meetings to scribble some ideas in a journal. It’s singing at a stoplight on your morning commute. Doodling on notes, maybe pulling out an old notebook and playing with your ideas, making them a little bigger. It's about small moments when you let your brain take it easy -- for five minutes a day, for however long you can. Toni Morrison, phenomenal author of "The Bluest Eye," wrote her masterpiece bit by bit after she put her kids to bed and before they woke up at the crack of dawn.

It’s worth it. What I found in my poetry workshop, scribbling ideas and half-baked poems for 10 minutes every night (and sometimes in between papers in the early, early morning), was freedom. I made myself a space to talk and express and breathe. Somewhere along the way, how “good” it was stopped being important, because those words and thoughts were mine. My answer to all my experiences. I made those experiences mean something, however small, and it felt good.

For the record, I’m writing this outside the library. Put off your paper for five minutes. Find a second to rediscover something we teach our kids with finger paint, crayons and November hand-turkeys. It doesn’t have to be “good,” but it is good to get out from under deadlines, stress and the next thing on the list. Make your own space. Go play.