Creativity is elusive. I don't know where it comes from, nor can I recognize how it's done, or when it comes about. It's a mystery of which all I can presume is that it doesn't originate with me. Inexplicable grace is the unreasonable foundation, and though we often try to summon the muse with passionate supplication or subtle bribery, it instinctively acts on it's own accord.
There was a time, soon after my college education, I cheekily declared that "when I do not have a single idea, I shall be as dead." Filled with audacious pride, and an endless list, deep in uncreated images this young artist wished to render, the appreciation of creative abandonment was illusory. The days of vanity are precious, for even the most inspired seem to fall victim to the dread of the unmanifest.
And so every Sunday I return home in perplexity from the morning's ritual visage. The keyboard cursor shouting like a caustic neon sign advertising my soul's dearth of opinion. The dull page filled only with the procrastinated silence of empty space. "What is there to say that's relevant," I contend, "Do I have anything meaningful at all to give?" Many times nothing seems to be there. Nothing but a weary story, a vague reference, and trite consolation. I am desolate and so remain mute for a time.
Bereft of our muse, the creator feels lost and struggles against dispirited odds. Likewise, on the day of the resurrection, the uninformed Emmaus-bound peregrines were woeful because their motivation was beyond recollection. In dependence upon a now crucified christ, they gave up the journey to deliverance. All possibility of a creative solution was destroyed. "We had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel," they pined to the enigmatic stranger, yet their essential cry was, "The salvation we demand, he was to give to us. Who will give to us now?" Give us, was there extreme hope. Though unbeknownst to them, he did provide. The Sphinx-like Jesus "interpreted to them...the scriptures," and gave them the inspiration to convert their creative impasse into connective, redemptive power. The unfortunate circumstance, however, was that the disciples only wanted to receive and not give in return.
"Giving and receiving are opposite energies inextricably linked together in the natural flow of life, like inhaling and exhaling," says consciousness teacher Shakti Gawain. We are reminded of this daily simply by considering the abundant flowering trees that surround and astound us. Unremittingly they photosynthesize sunlight, "inhaling" our carbon dioxide offertory, soon "exhaling" a precious life-giving bounty. From their life they give us life. Literally being a "tree-hugger" is, therefore, a natural way to convey thanks. "You give but little when you give of your possessions, Kahlil Gibran enumerates, "It is when you give of yourself that you truly give." Just so, Jesus offers the gift of life, and with their eyes opened, the disciples knew how to give as well." Their muse restored, they returned to Jerusalem...and told what had happened on the road." They shared the demiurgic gift.
We each have our own unique gifts to receive as well as to offer. With particular awareness to the creative spirit we revel in a thread that perpetuates the cycle. Gawain continues, "When we do our best to live our truth and express ourselves as authentically as possible, sharing ourselves as we are genuinely moved to, we naturally give our gifts to others and to the world." In our life we receive and we give; both are important. When we are open to receive life's creative grace with thankfulness, we restore our resources to reciprocate and enhance another's life. Creativity isn't as elusive as it once seemed. Life itself is the source of energy that we endeavor to tap and from it exudes from the capacity to give with grateful hearts.
pia
No comments:
Post a Comment