Lessons Learned
The
Improbability, The Impracticality, and The Impossibility of Creativity
It was an ordinary July
morning about to become an extraordinary one as well as an indelibly etched
memory simply because of the word “yes,” which is creativity’s favorite word.
In a world of “no’s,” where everyone has a reason why not, why you shouldn’t or
can’t, why it’s ridiculous or a great waste of time, or what would clearly be
better, which is all about those who are the naysayers and how their ideas
trump anything thing else on the table, the brave, small voice of yes fiercely
fights to stand firm and hold open the door of possibility. Nothing crushes the
possibility or the actuality of creativity more completely than a no face, a no
spirit, or a no personality, yet no is easiest answer, because, like a hot
knife through butter, it cuts off the inefficiency and messiness associated
with creativity and keeps us all neatly in lock-step, robotic and only
superficially engaged. Once you say yes, the lid of Pandora’s box flies to the
wind and time is caught up in the swirling wonder of imagination; a place of
play and a place of seeing things differently. This is a precious place
where joy and innovation collide and burst together into a splash of
technicolor brilliance. It was pouring with rain this hot July morning, and it
had been pouring with rain on and off over a number of days in a row. Inside
activities, experiments, and projects were ongoing in every corner, when one of
my sons casually presented the genuine wish of his heart in that moment, “I
really would like to go snowboarding today.” In the nanosecond subsequent to
the proclaimed wish, my mind raced between yes and no, why and why not,
practical or impractical, possible or impossible, ridiculous or exhilarating,
and I attempted to buy a pinch of time with the obvious question,
where could we go in July? As if the entire seemingly problematic gap
between winter and summer had been fully scrutinized and mentally bridged,
hence resolved, prior to the question, the response was simply and immediately,
mud is as slippery as snow. Hmmm. Of course. So with the yes door flung
wide open, we loaded the board in the car and set out in the pouring rain to
find steep enough muddy hills adequately suitable for mud-boarding. The perfect
hill was discovered. He was absolutely right about mud being slippery as
snow. Run after run after run with increasing laughter, increasing rain
soaked mud caked clothes, and increasing competence on the mud slope, my son
lived his July wish. Joy. Test and full affirmation of what to some no faces
might have seemed a ridiculous impractical impossibility. An idea dreamed, an
idea tried, a wish fulfilled. All because of yes. Every yes most
certainly builds significant confidence toward the next new idea, which is
exactly the place where creativity loves to dwell. Are there enough yes’s at
school? Are there enough yes’s at home? Are we wearing yes faces enough so that
this next generation of dreamers can imagine, then plan, then build an exciting
and hopeful future?
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