Our creativity can change the world!

Willow Blooms #002

It’s a big statement, but one that I wholeheartedly believe. Why else would so many people come to their computer screens to write essays that, at least for beginners like me, barely anyone reads?! Our words make a difference, if only to our own lives. Setting down our thoughts, perhaps with a deeper intention that we might not be entirely conscious of. Yet.

I’m deeply curious why others on here write, and would love for any of you to use the comments box if you are happy to share. Probably this question has been asked before, so do link me to any other posts you have seen that offer insight!

Is it an escape from the sadness, anger or disbelief from what seems to be a constant barrage of terrible news? Or a more active intention to create something different? To use writing to encourage change, or to take up Mahatma Gandhi’s call to be the change we want…

Funny Note- Before posting this, I double checked when and where Gandhi spoke those words. Apparently he didn’t. They have been attributed to Gandhi, according to Quote Investigator, since at least 1987, but in error! You can look this up on the link I’ve made- #Gandhi Fake News!! Lesson to myself- it’s always good to check quotations…

So I’ve asked myself, what is my intention in writing here? I usually write privately, or professionally, each with a distinct and different voice, so it has been interesting to contemplate what my Substack voice might be. As a practicing clinical psychologist, I’m mindful that my words can have a weight as an ‘expert’, and considered how much of my personal life, thoughts and feelings that are appropriate, or perhaps comfortable to share. Alongside voice, I’ve been considering boundaries, as all other writers undoubtedly do. And what of purpose?

I was drawn to Substack because I love to write, and my intention in writing was to combine the part of me that loves creative writing with the other parts of me. To develop a new, and perhaps more integrated voice, you might say. I’ve not got the answers yet (do we ever?), so, I suppose I am asking you the reader to bear with me. I might take some detours and try out different topics and ideas, figuring out what feels comfortable! I am always curious, so would love to your own journey of how you have found your voice, your boundaries, and your purpose on Substack.

Creativity as a way of being

What is a life without delving into the magical realms of creativity and the imagination?! It’s not something distinct to humans, clearly observable in the amazing videos they made years ago of squirrels trying to get to food in British gardens, but it’s one of those things, like singing, that people often say they are no good at. Despite it often being seen as something just for the ‘artists’ I think creativity is a universal thing, but something we might need to develop, like a muscle. For those who say they lack creativity, maybe they’ve been told it in the past, and that story, or anxiety associated with the free form uncertain nature of creativity and where it might go, has prevented the development of their creativity? But where does it come from and how do we cultivate it?

Creativity is a topic that we never touched on in clinical training, and I rarely see reference to theory, though creativity undoubtedly aids clinical practice. I wonder if art and drama and music therapists learn more about creativity, and links to therapeutic benefit, but my knowledge about and interest in the subject is mostly experiential and intuitive.

I was therefore excited to come across Rick Rubin’s ‘The Creative Act: A Way of Being’ on Borrowbox last year (Amazing eAudiobooks available through public library services in the UK). In my last post I commented on the wonder of Kerri ni Dochartaigh reading her book to me through Borrowbox, and Rick Rubin’s narration was equally wonderful to experience. His words sprinkled me with fairy dust, a heady hit of wisdom and sugar powered enthusiasm! I wanted to listen over and over again.

The hardback book is beautiful, and one of the only things I had on my 2023 Christmas list. I gratefully uncovered it from the wrapping, and touched the ridged outer cover. Strangely, by the end of January I had still not sat down to read it. I have struggled to read books for a while, hence my tendency to listen to audiobooks, but I don’t think this was the reason. Words go in differently through the eyes and the ears. They stick to different places, and develop lives of their own, creating questions and connections with my own ideas. This is one of the main reasons that I wanted the book, so what was stopping me? I did not have, or rather I had not made, the right space to read it ‘properly’. This book is like meditation, needing presence of mind and body.

I finally made space last weekend, but rather than reading from the beginning, I opened a page, and went in randomly. I did the same today, surprised that both times the book opened on the same page, like a pack of oracle cards, nudging me towards what I needed to read.

‘Keep writing’ I heard it telling me. And so here I am.

Is there objectivity in creativity?

As I said earlier, I have been pondering the relationship between art and well-being, and why we write. I’m new at Substack so I’m mostly reading and learning (ridiculously pleased with myself having learned to create the links in the paragraphs above!). This perspective allows me to surrender to my curiosity- watching what people write about, how others respond, and seeing the support and encouragement that is shared liberally. It doesn’t seem like a competition to be heard or to impress, but multiple conversations where each takes a turn in taking the lead, responding, and taking things in different directions. Like me perhaps, enjoying the contributions, and the feelings and ideas that it sparks. It is as if we are sitting around a giant dinner table, chatting after dessert and before the cheese course sends us all to sleep.

Art creates a profound connection between the artist and the audience. Through that connection, both can heal. (Rubin, 2023)

We are connected in the creative exchange, and the words we write are a salve for ourselves and the reader. It is not simply our words, perhaps, but also the connection that creates healing.

I think we know this at a human level, but it is surprising how little evidence I have come across in scientific research to investigate this relationship, and the impact of creating art on our well-being. I know it to be true, and yet much of my education and clinical training has been grounded in positivist scientific approaches, always seeking objectivity. A consequence of this scientific grounding, is that it is sometimes difficult to trust the ‘magic’ of creativity in my work. The scientist part of me demands proof, and evidence, sometimes doubting or undermining the intuitive, spiritual, emotional, and inventive knowing. We cannot cut our self off from ourselves: we are people with all kinds of conscious and unconscious biases, and these will bleed into everything.

Our beliefs about the scientific method are borne out of rationalism and premise that we gain knowledge through reason. William James, philosopher and psychologist in the late 19th century was critical of this approach. He proposed that we do not live in a closed system. Art depends on the interaction between the subject and the object of art, whilst science claims to separate the two. Objectivity supposedly removes the biases of the researcher, to test hypotheses and find evidence for truths that are generalisable and reproducible. I say supposedly, because I am not convinced that any science can be wholly objective. We experience many other routes to knowledge; the body sensations, emotions, intuition, religious beliefs, traditions, myths and storytelling, some of which are far from rational. All of these bubble away in our personal magic cauldrons, contributing to what it is to be a creative human. A good clinician is attuned to the individual, using their knowledge and clinical skills slightly differently for each person. This is why it is not an entirely objective science, and where creativity is important.

Research consistently indicates that the most important factor in therapy is the relationship. Feeling safe, understood, and validated. It is only when we feel these things that we can be open, not closed, and open to change. Art perhaps has the advantage in this respect, as we can each find the art that speaks to us, the art that we love, and feel safe with, and in connecting with the art, we can feel and think in new ways, and be inspired.

The Butterfly Effect of creativity

It can feel overwhelming, and hard to articulate our difficulties when we are in a place of darkness or suffering. Some answers and sources of comfort are found in the therapy space, books, or self-help manuals, but others are found in the silence or noise of our creative minds.

Rubin’s words offer a way in to creativity, if we ‘are open and stay tuned’. I hope you will forgive me for not providing ‘the answer’ to my question about where creativity comes from. It is a big one, and something I want to keep asking and learning about. I’d love to hear your ideas about this, and particularly how creativity creates connection and healing. Substack in an inter-subjective space that invites us to dance with ourselves, and others, to create, or to discover, something that is unimaginable alone.

The CHECKYOURFACT website informs me that Gandhi wrote something pretty similar to the mis-quoted wisdom I started with-

If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change.

As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him.

Final Note- These are taken from a document of the collected work of Gandhi. It is over 400 pages, so I’ve trusted the citation without double checking. This is the link if you’d like to verify it yourself!

If I change my tendencies and shift towards my creative nature, connection and relationships more this year, will this effect change in the tendencies of the world? Is it too much to hope that a shift towards a better balance between art and science might support the same shift in the world? What if the things we write on Substack incrementally make a difference, what would you all write knowing you might create similar changes in the world?

There’s a big question for Sunday night! I’d love to hear your ideas.