CAUTIONARY NOTE: this post will refer to suicide as it relates to those who are identified as a creative type. I wrote it in 2014 and decided not to publish it. In light of recent events in 2018, I fear that it is an increasingly weighty topic.
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| Mexican-Western 1971 |
I've noticed a common dynamic in creative types toward their work. Whether the tension is about making their daily work more creative, or about endeavors outside of daily work, there is a back and forth between permission and rebellion that seems to stem from being trapped by guilt.
Before we get into that, I firmly believe that there is hardly anyone who doesn't have a creative capacity. Many people are considered to be creative simply because they were identified that way, and made some sort of commitment to maintaining that identity. While talent is subjective, and success has criteria, creativity is a human trait that finds its way out, even if we don't always recognize it as such.
Because creativity is not always under our control, we sometimes regard it dubiously and as a kind of illegitimacy, as if it fell off the back of a truck and we have to hide and launder it to avoid raising suspicion. We may feel guilty for neglecting this part of ourselves, and we offer it defensive explanations when it tugs at us. We minimize our need for it, and downplay our desire for it. If we didn't, then we would be threatening all of the other necessities that press on us, and we don't want to disappoint.
Disappointing others is painful for how much guilt and shame it can produce. When this goes unchecked it can lead to self-destructive impulses. Many suicides are compelled by guilt feelings in extremis. Having talent doesn't save people from their massive feelings of guilt and obligation. I often think of the double-bind that globally successful creatives have found themselves in. Their creativity comes under contract and then other people's livelihoods become attached to output and a financial bottom line. The person becomes a victim of their own talent.
Unfortunately, we see far too many people rebelling against this system of being taken, by taking their own lives, instead. Many of us naturally respond to this loss by imagining and being certain that the superstar would have continued to produce and shine brilliantly for many more years to come. Their work is given a new life as a requiem. In this sense, the creative person paradoxically has died in a second birth.
Despite all of the potential for tragedy, we can protect our creativity, and not become an unmerciful stage parent to it, where reality becomes skewed. We get to decide which pearls of ours are of great price, apart from what we produce. There is absolutely no shame in trading our goods for a price, as long as we know what our work is truly worth. There is no shame in devoting ourselves to a work that few would want to buy. We are in service to creativity and not to the gods of criticism, nor to the groupies in search of an identity, who all get upset when the revered person changes their style. Think Bob Dylan going electric.
From seeing what can happen to creatives, many people fear going into that service, and the best way to get rid of a fear of something is to devalue it. But creativity is too strong to stay down indefinitely. Dismissing it is to underestimate it. Discarding it makes us vulnerable to allowing our creativity to become wedded to fear or hate, and like a reversed tarot card, the future becomes upside down and grim. We rebel against the guilty feelings caused by fear of disappointing ourselves and others, and all the while, use our creativity to do the rebelling rather than the work.
"Creative accounting” in how our ego measures our accomplishments is an example of this, as well as fabricating stories, making empty promises or threats in an effort to keep others from seeing our failings, grinding out justifications for squandering our talent or opportunities, and worst of all, indulging in naiveté. Many of our negative experiences come out of schemes designed to deceive ourselves. Although I hold the truth as one of the highest values, I have often made a concerted effort not to see it and stay mystified because I simply didn’t want to believe it. That sort of ambivalence and cowardice is a dealbreaker for originality. If our hearts aren’t sincere in what we’re doing, with devotion to skillfulness, then the whole thing feels tedious and overdone.
If we experience our creative selves only in conjunction with our darker or hidden sides, then we can begin to believe that we require the components or paraphernalia of dark purposes in order to feel some creative juice. Any tender intentions may end prematurely, because they were commandeered without our full consent. We're involved in some sort of racket, where we have to wait for permission or the perfect setup before we act on our aspirations. That permission will never come. Even if we have a "mob" in our lives, who truly want us to be happy, their blessing will never feel like permission, or even encouragement, unless we truly value creativity as a birthright and expect it of ourselves without excuse.
Everything surrounding that right becomes negotiation that is doable, when it comes to how time, money and energy is spent. We all have chips to bargain with-- some more than others-- but part of the fun is in finding chips we didn't know we had. We were just giving them away invisibly, under a feeling of duress to ward off disappointment and guilt. We helped to build the trap so that we could blame everyone else for our indecision, passivity and resignation.
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| From "Casino Collectible News", Vol. 2 pg 24 found on antiquegamblingchips.com |
Discovering what is truly the case-- what we are laying down our lives for, one hand at a time-- is liberating in its clarity. First we must recognize to ourselves, "No, I can't do all of that and also live with any healthy sense of self. But here is what I can do." If the response to that stance is fear, obligation or guilt— attempts to control or further entrap— then the answer is clear. These people want what they want from you regardless of what it does to you. They want you to make sacrifices so that they don't have to make any. This is because supporting someone comes with a price. If a person says all of the right things about supporting you, yet is unwilling to give anything that actual support requires, then you know that support to them just means, “Whatever is leftover after me.” This is not the right attitude of true family or friendship. That is consumption of another. That is grounds for not just rebellion, but a full-scale, at home revolution.
Part of compassionate support that we can all provide for each other is to help someone find their own chips, so they are not as fearful about giving up what protects them from the demands of creativity. It is understandably difficult to watch a person struggle, and want to design a path for them as we see fit. I, myself, at times have wished for someone to just tell me what to do, in order to lay down the burden of my own potential, like some sort of celestial blueprint, or an Everlasting Hall Pass that allows me to skip over the responsibility for my own life. Self-determination is often up in the air, but it isn’t weightless. The difficulties are real, which is why we need to guard against the abandonment of the self and its requirements, even when pushing all of that aside would be easier. While ease is an enjoyable state, it is only temporary and not a virtue. It leads to stagnation and depletion which fail to reinforce autonomy. Struggle is not the desired end, but autonomy is, in ourselves and others. Protecting the autonomy of another can mean letting go of our plans and misguided efforts to provide comfort rather than encouragement.
There is nothing noble in doing something for someone when they could be discovering and deriving enjoyment from doing it themselves. It is not our place to rob them of that joy, just to keep the peace. If we are misjudged in the midst of taking a stand for ourselves or for them, and allow a space for their frustrated creativity to emerge, then we may have to accept that misjudgment. If we are trying to control and keep everyone completely on track, pain-free and entertained, then we have only cheated them from what they really need, which is our priceless, true self that keeps the faith. Autonomy need not equal aloneness.
How do we go about living within self-generated freedom? How do we grant ourselves permission to rebel? Simply by making both conscientious advances and retreats and seeking wise counsel from whomever appears to be making progress and not going in circles. Within and without, there are countless examples, demonstrations and expressions for us to excavate, emulate and exercise, until we realize that we have been bursting with a declaration of adoration all along.
And if you've got the summertime blues, Revolution can come to you in a red dress.
"Miss Celie's Blues" by Quincy Jones from the film The Color Purple, 1986
