an end to all flummery
We live in a world that has decided that a few, select and special people have the corner on imagination while everyone else is just shlubbing along.
Balderdash! Bilge, blather and twaddle!
That lie emanates from wherever God isn’t. Every one of us is a glowing reflection of our Creator. Some glow brighter than others, at times. Some refuse to glow or are embarrassed by their light and hide it. Some of us feel it isn’t fair that our light may be a bit brighter than another’s light. That glow is evidence that we are all a chip off the original spark--the Eternal, Original Idea. A slice of the Eternal imagination goes on forever--through each of us.
This goes double for children since they have not yet begun to self-censor, or believe the double-talk, drivel and drool that we “grown ups” have settled for. Eventually--and far to young--children learn to live every worry-plagued day of their lives guided more by what can’t be, than by what can and even might be. We do not live our dreams because we're too busy living our fears.
Children are blessed with a holy ignorance of can’t, and an unfamiliarity with impossible. They traffic in try and wonder. Children constantly ask, "Why not?” Adults ask, why bother? Adults long ago stopped upending rocks just to say "hello" to the teeming kingdoms beneath. A bugs’ life no longer fascinates us. Sadly, neither does our own journey have even a whiff of adventure.
Now and then our child-like spirit sticks a foot in, a nose out and says, “I want to play too!” If we allow it--if we let down our grown-up guard--that child inside can and will re-emerge to sing, dance, cackle, shout, and repaint the world. We were all told, too-young, to color inside the bloody lines. The child you once were and might yet be, will not be careful, but sloppy--because it genuinely doesn’t matter. The sooner we stop making so much matter, the sooner we truly can reflect our Maker and make a difference. And not just in creative thinking sessions about company marketing strategies.
For me, being in touch with my child-like spirit is about taking the kind of risks that scare me and often terrify others. That’s as it should be. Your risks would frighten me. I haven’t a clue how my friend Ken Medema (www.kenmedema.com) listens to his audience members relate personal stories during his concerts and then composes a song about it on the spot. Meanwhile, Ken finds an item or two of my stuff a bit baffling. But that’s my stuff. That’s as it should be.
I know when I’m in touch with my “inner child” because he keeps getting sent to my “inner principal.” Funnily enough, that’s a familiar and safe place for me, since in real life it was my father’s office. From third through the eighth grades I attended a private, church-related school where he was the principal. He was also one of my biggest cheerleaders--even when I got into the kind of trouble that got me sent to the principal’s office. Other kids were scared to be sent to “Mr. Wilson.” But I knew my dad was like Aslan, the immense, roaring lion in C. S. Lewis’ glistening and redemptive The Chronicles of Narnia books.
“Is he safe?” Asked Peter, inquiring about Aslan the big lion.
“No,” said Mr. Beaver. “But he’s good.”
Creativity, new ideas, and brainstorming won’t always be safe. Risk takers need champions to stand up for them. We must all be champions for each other. Say, “Yes, and...” to the whim that's too tiny to even be a “phone doodle” as well as to the notion of dropping a hotel down in the middle of a theme park. We champion one another to bring out the best of ourselves. We cannot know where the next Emily Dickenson, Emile Zola, or Charles Schulz will come from to illumine our world with new thinking and possibilities we might never have discovered without them.
We musn’t believe all that jazz about what’s appropriate, acceptable, popular, or even reasonable.(Covering your face when you sneeze--that’s reasonable.) Be careful, too, of the corporate monster “feasible.” It devours creativity. All that hokum and hogwash about fitting in rather than sticking out comes from the dark side, the Prince of all Humbug. There are those who would like nothing more than for you and me to be less. The more we are all alike, all the same, the better it is for Old Scratch and his minions of mediocrity.
The more the Big Lie finds a home in our hearts and minds, the more we are diminished from making an essential contribution to the lives of others. (The Big Lie is that you are not creative.)
In the United States we celebrate and embrace hundreds of ethnic people groups. Each makes their own glorious contribution to the truly unique fabric of the American cultural tapestry. But make no mistake. The beauty of that tapestry is that it is one American culture, not hundreds of independent, coexisting cultures. You need only to see the creativity in the colorful clothing of Mongolians, Kenyans and Guatemalans; taste the amazing flavors of Tuscany, and Thailand, and Tennessee; hear the enormous musical variety of Ireland, Spain and Appalachia; read the grand writing of Russian novelists, Welsh poets and one particular Missouri story weaver; use the technical genius of Swedes, Germans, and two bicycle-repairing brothers from Ohio; to say nothing of that thing they do with grapes in Bordeaux, Napa, and certain soggy slopes in the state of Washington. Sameness infected none of these and we are all the richer for their rule-breaking spirits. The contribution of each of these ingredients makes our American culture richer, fuller, and more tasty. More...everything!
However, if we can be coaxed into believing the lie that only a few among us are creative, then only a few will be creative. We’re getting flimflammed by the original king of all flummery. To be less creative is to be less human, less you.
Renewing the Grass Stains
This is the only life you have. You may or may not get to come back and play with whoever Shirley MacLaine gets to be on her next visit, but for now, this is it, Virginia. There’s no Santa, Elvis is dead, God is alive and so are you--if you choose to be.
Don’t think about whether or not you are creative or non-creative, rather, ponder this for a moment: The human race, is composed of several billions of us. People are neither creative or non-creative. Rather, each of us is actively and inactively creative throughout every waking moment. We move back and forth on a continuum of creative activity and inspiration--at times effortlessly. Even when we are not feeling creative, it is in us to call up and use at any time.
All that is asked of you is that you move. Even if you are an introvert. Many await your participation and some need you to lead. The symphony of human brilliance will not be complete without your notes.
If you feel you are inadequate, watch children. They are highly unskilled at pretty much everything they attempt. Yet they try everything! They don’t listen to maturity’s hot air about being responsible or capable. Instead they fill their lives with that fresh air of dreams and imagination and fly to the stars. They don’t get drunk on the moonshine of “act your age.” They roll down grassy hills basking in the moon-glow and starlight of endless possibilities.
“Race you to the top of the hill!” [ 1,306 ]
From the forth coming book Donuts on the Moon by C. McNair Wison
