Creativity

When I hear the word “creativity” I immediately think about art. And when I think about art, I think about beautiful paintings, moving music, and books and movies that open my mind and heart to new perspectives that change me from the inside out. And I also think about how I’m not good at art and creative stuff.

I’ve lived most of my life believing that I was not a creative person. I can’t draw. I don’t play an instrument. I dance like Elaine from Seinfeld. And I have always envied people who I judged as being “good at art”.

A few months ago I was introduced to a book called The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin and it has changed the way I think about art and creativity. Rubin says, “Creativity is not a rare ability. It is not difficult to access. Creativity is a fundamental aspect of being human. It’s our birthright. And it’s for all of us.”

According to Rubin, art is how we communicate what we see in the world. It can be anything from the way you set your dining room table to a new route you drive home from work. Every one of us as a unique perception of the world. You may be very aware of something in your world that someone else doesn’t even notice. My husband and I are like this. We can both be looking at a building and he will find beauty and interest in the physical construction and engineering and I’ll focus on the color scheme and landscaping.

What trips me up about my belief that I’m not a creative person is judgement. I’m afraid that if I put myself and my perspectives out into the world that I will be rejected. People will think I’m not good enough. This is where the yoga comes in.

Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra 1.12 addresses cultivating our ability to be steadfast and determined without focusing on the fruits of our labors. I experience this as a yoga teacher when I introduce a concept in class. I am communicating it to you through the lens of my perspective and I try to find creative ways to express my ideas. Maybe it’s through a metaphor or story or a physical exercise to help you feel what I am teaching within your own body. Sometimes I introduce a metaphor and I can see all of your eyes looking back at me with absolute confusion. When this happens I might move on to another way of explaining my idea or I drop it and move to another topic. But I will always come back to it and try again. I am determined to teach students yoga through my own perspective, because it is an integral and beautiful part of my life that has supported me for decades and I want to share it. But the way that I teach will not resonate with everyone. Just as a painting that moves someone to tears is judged as tacky by someone else.

I saw a show on HGTV a couple of years ago where different designers competed against one another in renovation projects. One of the designers, Pittsburgh native Leanne Ford, designed a kitchen in a home that the HGTV judges did not like. One of the judges told her that her design would not be embraced by the masses. Her response was one that I think about often. She said, “Yes, but there is one person that will absolutely love this design and that’s who I am designing for.”

When you put yourself out there and communicate the way you see the world and someone else understands and connects with you but 100 other people don’t get it, does that mean that you failed? I don’t think so. What if what you put out in the world feels authentic and true to you, but no one else gets it? So what? That’s not failure either. We do the work/art/creative act for ourselves and let go of the results.

We can find creativity in our yoga practice in so many ways. It could be how, when, or where you practice. Using blocks, straps, walls, or other props. We try different ways to do poses. When you stumble in a balance pose does that mean that you failed? No! Because the standing on one leg is not our goal. Our goal is to practice. To be present. To experience what is authentic and true to us in THIS moment. And the practice is just for us. It’s our own unique way of being in the world without judgement.

“Living life as an artist is a practice. You are either engaging in the practice of you’re not.

It makes no sense to say you’re not good at it. It’s like saying, ‘I’m not good at being a monk.’ You are either living as a monk or you’re not.

We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output.

The real work of the artist is a way of being in the world.”

Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being