The Creative Process - a Letter to Elizabeth Gilbert

It always occurs as such a surprise when you stumble upon something that taps into one's psyche randomly, effortlessly and yet so fully.

Hence, it was an intriguing surprise to stumble upon this TED talk, given by author, Elizabeth Gilbert. I particularly liked her relaxed style of delivery, her anecdotal stories that tickled my sense of the obscure and most of all, her message. That, however we come to do it, we should all be choosing a way of seeing the creative process, in whatever form that may take, as a blessing, full of promise and possibility, rather than as a curse that is doomed to failure, a life of abject poverty and the consumption of alcohol in mind sapping quantities.

Elizabeth's message was to find a way of believing in oneself and one's calling to be creative, without falling victim to stereotypes or to the fear that surrounds anything related to a 'follow up success'. As in her case, the perpetual rounds of questions that focussed on the idea that her best work was behind her instead of ahead of her.

One way to deal with this dilemma for Elizabeth was to search out ways that people have utilised, historically, to maintain distance between their creative process and the proverbial "I", otherwise known as the depths to which our egos alone, or combined with the musings of naysayers, will go to, to limit a dream or to bury it completely under a blanket of self doubt, fear and the dreaded 'what ifs'.

"What if your next book bombs?" - as if that question alone was enough to sink a ship or disable a writer's future. Which, it turns out, it has proven time and again to be capable of....Disabling a future, I'm not sure about the sinking a ship thing. It was intended as a metaphor.

In distancing one's ego from one's craft, I liked a couple of Elizabeth's anecdotes. One was in respect of the author, Ruth Stone, whose inspiration, she was told, floated in on the wind. When it did so, it was an unmistakeable call to Ruth to pen down words, which she faithfully did. In writing her poems, Elizabeth spoke of her story of delicately being able to 'catch a poem by its tail'... As if it were an errant kitten.

Another was the story of Tom, whose ideas would appear at the most inopportune of times. Such bad timing that he would be minded to call out into the open air and request that, notwithstanding it was a brilliant idea, it please return at a more convenient hour. He was, for example, driving and therefore kinda busy at the present moment. How brazen and bold and delicious an attitude!

The crux of Elizabeth's argument though, was that, collectively, we have allowed our presumptions of certain and inevitable, future failure for creative endeavours to leak into our consciousness and to paralyse us with a fear that is, in and of itself, certain to, at best, contain our abilities and, at worst, steer us well clear of ever starting in the first place.

In an effort to fathom a way of maintaining a safe distance from self sabotaging thoughts and rather, to reproduce a modus operandi in which she could cherish her creativity, encourage its growth and will into blossoming its future, Elizabeth relayed her approach of seeking out cultures that rejoiced in and paid homage to the creative process.

She gave the ancient Greeks and Romans as examples of where this psychological model of distancing was used. How the Greeks and Romans saw themselves as mere vessels and gave credit to the revered world of spirits, deamons and angels as the true purveyors of all creativity. How they believed that it was through the gracious presence of these spirits, angels or deamons that new ideas were birthed and thoughts were able to be aligned with an elegance of sequence and an eloquence of form dictated by the supernatural. A genius bestowed upon one rather than being a product of one.

Elizabeth illuminated why that construct of distance was so appealing to her and, at a general level, why it appeals to the many. Because it is safe and it involves separation from one's self. It allows one to hand over the reins of creative licence to a higher potential than our human selves, an independent entity, to inhabit and use us as a portal to the unlimited wonders of creative expression.

The idea being, that higher energies will attend to the source of our inspiration. An abdication of responsibility that means that all you need to do is just show up and do your part of the deal and the rest will be taken care of. Indeed, an intoxicating 'out' in my view.

The notion that 'my job is to write and I showed up for that' so it is not entirely my fault if this work is not entirely great...

I, personally, love the idea.

How wonderful! A mechanism of distancing oneself from our innate fear of failure. The construct of an entity that takes the fall for us and can therefore bear the brunt of all our shortcomings.

And yet, does not our fear of failure bear ever more fruit when built upon a previous success?A success that I, for one, would be happy to take credit for.

How ironic then that one's level of success becomes the same platform from which our fear rears up. Are we allowed nothing to lift us higher and show us what potential lies within our mortal coils?

Elizabeth muses over a lovely story of transmutation about how the words "Allah Allah"in the Middle East gave way to their Spanish derivative in "Ole Ole" and the connection made was a beautiful one of praise and celebration. She queries though, our ability to reconcile those celebratory states of pure joy and divine inspiration, "Allah, Allah" / "Ole, Ole, against showing up the next day as a paid per hour dancer or a desk job, office worker.

Nevertheless, and notwithstanding the contradictions we may feel, or how daunting it may be, Elizabeth's premise is to make a decision to have cause enough to say "Ole!" and then to show up as one's own voice.

So, I shall say "Ole!". I seek to show up and to be stubborn in my showing up (ness)...

I acknowledge that, even in my ordinary world, I have a choice. I can sit this life out or I can dance and choose to show up as my creative, fully expressed, self.

This means that I must seek to say "Ole!" even when I can't figure out why or how or when that marvelous deity within is going to strike a pose within my mind and feed me a New York Times bestseller...

And perhaps that is right when faith starts to grow or better still, when faith knows....to kick in. Before the result. In that space in between.

Even in writing a hub page, I am guided by that very premise of Elizabeth's. To just show up and do my job as a writer. Albeit no-one knows me as a writer but that is what I am asking myself to call myself. Maybe in doing so, my writing deity will be able to GPS its way into my scribblings and honour them with a morsel of talent.

In answer to Elizabeth's question in the talk, as to whether or not we wish to perpetuate the link between creativity and anguish. My answer is definitive and it is No. It beholds me nothing to link my desire to write with a grey and bleak future of having to suffer and pay my dues. Instead, I wish to fuel my creativity with positive thoughts and even fund it one day with a positive cash flow. Who knows. Right?

It is a choice to believe and a choice to attach my word association neurons for creativity, with those of joy and freedom, passion and possibility. And I choose that attachment, that association, that grey-matter link up.

So, Thank you Elizabeth, for a talk of depth and substance that resonated with me.

Needless to say, as did your book. Twice.

But it has been in watching your TED talk that life has been breathed into my desire to be more creative and to write.

Which leads me then to the task of choosing a name for my deamon, my angel, my genius - so that I may be welcoming when it flys in my window...

Or...

If my creative self never dares to dream, I'll have someone to blame.

But...

If I dream and if I soar, I will know who to thank...

By name.