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Need a steady ‘stream of creativity’? Practice being proactively creative

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I have often written here about the unpredictability of creative outlets, the inspiration that comes in the most strangest time and situations, but can we really do something about it and take just a little bit control over it?

What I observed in my years of research and work is that we as humans tend to be reactively creative. It means that we search for creative solutions and answers mostly when we are challenged to do so.

For example:

  1. A problem or difficult situation appears in our lives;
  2. The situation makes us feel really constrained to the point it provokes us to ‘take the things into our hands’ and solve it;
  3. The problem is out of range of our typical solving problem skills – it requires of us to think differently and come up with a creative, non-standard solution.

When these 3 things happen, then we are prompted to react to a problem and get creative.

What if we take a stand to be proactive about our creativity? Actually, can we practice creativity regularly? Some experts claim you need to be proactive about your creativity to discover and manifest your true potential as a person.

We are creatures of habits and conformity. Most of us are dreaded by the thought of any change in our lives. But if we do make a little challenges for us every day, we are actually practicing our creativity, being proactive about it.

As Brian Eno puts it in this interview:

The point about working is not to produce great stuff all the time, but to remain ready for when you can.There’s no point in saying, ‘I don’t have an idea today, so I’ll just smoke some drugs.’ You should stay alert for the moment when a number of things are just ready to collide with one another… The reason to keep working is almost to build a certain mental tone, like people talk about body tone.

So what can you do to practice proactive creativity? For example: take participation in the activities in your community, take an art class, invent new recipes – learn to cook new dishes, travel and learn new language, try new sports or dance, eat with chopsticks instead of using fork all the time, change your usual route to work/school.

Try and experience something different form your current skill sets  –  you may be pleasantly surprised by the fresh creativity that will start to pour in. It’s a kind of preparation phase as B. Eno says, when unpredictable good ideas appear – you are ready to make the most of them.

We can design our lives in such way we invite creativity every day- it’s up to us.


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Conjunction

She slowly travels towards destined ninth house

where Mercury peacefully waits for Jupiter to arrive

in peregrine flight, exalted in graceful detriment

of opposing stone monolith in the third,

(wanting to return in second)

strong, but humble in the waiting room

of offspring stars breast-fed by the ever-giving moon

 

Maja S. Todorovic

Have we met?

Yes, I know you, Fear.

 

I know…how my mother’s body

screamed when she couldn’t get out of bed.

Her eyes would darken,

swallowing my childhood smile.

 

I know how my older sister hid her head

among pages, pretending to be an astronaut

and I was a suitcase she rolled over the moon.

 

I know how my father duct-taped his voice,

washing for hours his hands in a bathroom sink

each time he would crush the car.

 

I know, you are that lump in my throat

too large even for this poem to hold.

 

Maja S. Todorovic

Poetry improves lives:a guest post by Cherish Tiana

This is a guest post, a courtesy of a fellow poet and writer Cherish Tiana where she shares her heartwarming story on how poetry gives voice when nobody listens:

The only way to explain why I write is to explore the time in my life when I did not and could not. The only way to explain my creativity, my inspiration is to return to the point where I was devoid of either.

I have discovered several things that are necessary for me to be able to produce creatively: self awareness, self acceptance, and self satisfaction.

These things had been lost to me a few months after the premature birth of my son. I would like to say they were violently stolen, but the correct phrase would really be freely given. At every stage of my pregnancy, of my birthing process, and of my early stages of motherhood, I was criticized, doubted, questioned, ridiculed, ostracized and ignored; I internalized it.

I was ignored when I told the doctor my son is large for a 31 weeker, she denied that possibility and proceeded to make an incision he would later become stuck and nearly die in. I was ridiculed when I did not want to vaccinate my son before taking him home from the NICU because I had read the drug insert for the hepatitis B vaccine, which (if I can let you in on a secret) doctors never do.

I was ostracized from the pediatric medical field because I did not want to add additional risk for my son who had not even reached his due date by the time he was released from the hospital (born at 31 weeks gestation, released at 34).

I was questioned when, two weeks after finally giving into the vaccine because we would go without a pediatrician otherwise, my sons vaccine injected leg was inexplicably broken. Horrified, fearful of this unknown source of attack and constant threat of misfortune, my fear was magnified by the blame that I had caused the break by abuse. Abuse that not only did not occur, but did not even reveal itself upon medical examination of my son.

I gave my voice away and I pimped my convictions for the sake of being accepted but when I searched out a deeper level of satisfaction, awareness, and acceptance of myself, I found that not only was I liberated, but I was free to flow creatively once again.

In my poetry, I express my liberty. My voice is no longer silenced and most importantly, I am unapologetic about it.

The Apology

I apologized for not fitting into the mold that society laid out for me.

The “Land of the Free”
but only if my thoughts and vision fall into alignment;
if not you place limits on my creativity, chains to maintain the course of my liberty.

I apologized when my opinions
offended your sensibilities and the fragility of your insecurities.

You gave me the label of opinionated, a scarlet letter in our society.
“Quiet your noise”, you said, “because opinions are unbecoming”.
“Just fall in line with the status quo”.
You would rather live what you know than expand your thinking and take the opportunity
to grow.

So I apologized.

I apologized for the truth
because the truth made you uncomfortable.

I apologized.
Many times, I apologized.
When it was a lie, even still,
I apologized.

So excuse me if I don’t offer you an apology.

Pardon me, I’m just no longer sorry.

Cherish is a writer, poetess, Greek/Hebrew enthusiast, and a follower of Christ. You can find her writings at reignoffaith.wordpress.com


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