This past weekend, I was fortunate enough to go to the Renaissance Festival up in the Cities for the first time since before the pandemic. We used to go every year when I was a kid, then I went sporadically throughout my teenage years and went nearly a decade before seeing it again as an adult several years ago. I’ve always thought of it fondly as an activity, and walking the festival grounds always feels a little bit homey as I have such specific memories of the area. Even the mud pits that form in the big thoroughfares are nostalgic in their own way.

One thing I realized this year, however, is that the longer I go without a trip, the more my memory of the Renaissance Festival begins to warp toward a focus on the stressors I encounter with the trip. Because there are a lot of stressors involved. A lot of my biggest triggers are present, like big crowds, being uncomfortably warm, and too much noise. And the further I get from the actual experience, the larger those factors seem.

And while it is true that I need considerably more time to “recover” from a day at the festival than most non-drinkers, I’m realizing that this mis-focus does me a real disservice.

But focusing on the negatives, I forget how much the festival feeds my creative soul. Sure, driving in the Cities sucks, and there are people everywhere, and I spend the whole day drenched in my own sweat. But it’s also a space and a time where all things nerdy are not only acceptable but encouraged. And nearly all of those people that are invading my personal bubble are friendly and kind. I get more random compliments from fellow fest-goers than I ever do in my everyday life. The majority of people are there to have fun, they’re in a good mood, and the whole festival gets infected with it.

And while I’m hugely uncomfortable around drunk people thanks to an overabundance of dealing with them as a child, I sometimes forget that now that I’m an adult, I have more control over my environment. I can walk away from those people. And the people that go to the festival with me aren’t getting drunk.

I never been to Renaissance Festivals in other states, but I’m guessing that it would be true of any and all that there is a general permeation of storytelling in the air. With so many actors and cosplayers in the same place, there’s just no way around it. Everyone suspends their disbelief when they leave their cars so that when you enter the festival grounds, it truly does seem like you’ve entered another world.

In my absence, I forgot how invigorating this atmosphere is. And, while I left absolutely exhausted, I felt, for the first time in a long time, as though my creative well had been refilled. It’s not even that the festival gives me specific inspiration for my WIP (though I do have an idea kicking around my brain from years ago that’s set at a ren faire). It’s just being around other creative people, seeing their costumes and characters, and listening to committed players weave their stories little by little in every interaction they have throughout the day.

Being around other people who are excited to be creative makes me excited to be creative.

Seems pretty obvious now, but in the absence of creative outlets like this, it just feels like my brain forgot how to be creative. Like I’m the problem.

I’m hoping to make more of a habit of going to the Renaissance again, like when I was a kid. It’s just a shame I’ll have to wait a whole year for it to come back around.

I am curious about what other sorts of creative experiences people use to refuel their creative selves. And if you haven’t found something like this that makes you feel mentally rejuvenated, I highly recommend it.