Sacred Creativity

I’ve written before (12/4/08) on creativity and how it can emerge when one enters the silence. Adherents of wisdom traditions the world over have long understood that, by slowing down and placing attention to the divine void, inventive and imaginative insights come. Every creature naturally seeks and exhibits creativity. We all understand that creativity is life-affirming, that it nurtures life. Similarly, life itself is creative, in that it is continually evolving and persevering.

But creativity demands a lot from us. It’s hard work. Although we may inherently comprehend that creativity is sacred and crucial to our survival and success, we also have an innate lazy streak. It’s far easier to coast downhill than struggle uphill, thus our potential for imagination and resourcefulness can quickly turn to the vacancy of dullness and repetition. Creativity also requires us to take a risk—to step into the unknown and chance failure. Many artists who once creatively displayed great talent later opt for financial success and status; with the result that their output becomes monotonous, as they try to attain popularity by endlessly copying themselves or the latest trend.

One beautiful aspect of creativity is that it’s an equal opportunity quality. No matter our circumstances—whether rich or poor, free or imprisoned, capable or handicapped—we can be creative. Some of the most oppressed and disempowered people have achieved autonomy and freedom by exhibiting imagination and creativity. Blacks in America and South Africa finally gained some measure of civil rights by becoming nonviolently creative; facing the oppressive machinery of the state. Helen Keller—blind and deaf—overcame her adversities to become an inspiration to millions.

And that’s what is most important about creativity: when we use what we gain from it by inspiring and teaching others. We can give no greater gift than to use our skills to help others to realize what wonders await them if they pause, go inward, seek inspiration from the divine void, and touch their creative source.

Precious Silence—Part 1

We’ve all heard expressions like “Silence is golden.” And we’ve been exposed to the guidance that listening to others is a gift. (Thoreau: "The greatest compliment that was ever paid me was when one asked me what I thought, and attended to my answer.")

We cannot really listen when we are talking. There’s something special about halting the flow of our chatter and opening our ears and other senses to our world. I believe that silence is beyond golden—it’s precious.

A fascinating attribute of silence is that creativity flows from it. It’s fascinating, partly because it’s also a paradox: something comes from nothing. Out of the void of silence emerges imaginative and original things. (Maybe in a future posting I will explore the parallel between this point and an insight that quantum mechanics brings us: subatomic particles—real things—do slip in and out of existence.)

Creativity is the act of bringing something into existence—something that never existed before. It’s a kind of artistic imagination. It’s bringing the new and unexpected into being—from which change and evolution stem. Creativity is also a renewing process that spawns vitality and innovation. It fosters freshness and helps break the dreary rut we may find ourselves in. Creativity is even a form of healing—in the sense that it is intelligence, which leads to regeneration and healing. Our body, our immune system, must be open to our environment, and this kind of intelligence fosters health and healing.

Language also can be creative. It connects us to others. We relate to each other by symbols, creating a common world in our heads. The cosmos is creative. It is unpredictable, unexpected, and constantly evolving. New qualities are continually emerging—things that could not have been conceived of before.

Creativity is often confused with novelty—but it’s very different; it’s far deeper. Novelty is, by definition, something new, but it’s usually something assembled from existing things. It’s just a rearrangement of stuff that’s already around, into something different. It’s often a repetitive process that can eventually lead to a rut—a copy-cat, frenetic existence that lacks true creativity. It can feed fashions and fads, that become addictive and encourage our grasping for the unattainable, as we try to feed an insatiable hunger. When we fall prey to novelty, we become numb and dull. We close ourselves off to our world—hewing to the fad, becoming rigid and dogmatic.

Continued next time…