Experiment 3: Curiosity

Third month into the Creativity Experiment and the topic is Curiosity. I'm scratching my head a little bit as this felt pretty inherent in the second month's experiment around playfulness - but I'll go with the flow and see what comes out of this month's work.

Here are Kelly's questions to think about when it comes to using curiosity for creativity:

1. What is in the way of me following this creative thread/curiosity?

Beach cobble play

A couple things get in my way: the idea that I have to become an Artist (capitol A) and giving myself permission to practice, try on, dabble with an idea, use up some materials that may never see the light of day.

Using my time in creative pursuits can only be valued if I claim that time as some sort of vocation/career. It's like calling oneself a Writer if you've never published. What a wonderful way to block any creative work! I'm seeing this as having some sort of defensible position when someone might ask me 'what do you do?.' Perhaps I've been sensitive to that for a long time - the value society puts on Work that creates income. Why do I need to see my creative pursuits as end products that are valued by others (monetary value)? 

This certainly plays out in the second block as I tend to see the value in using up products only when they go into a "finished project."  When I lose interest in a project, I feel guilty for the waste of material, paper, etc. I've been pushing this narrative now for a year or so - but I recognize the whisper in my mind that asks - if you can't do it well, why try it?

And that, my friends, is the whispered voice of my internal loyal soldier. The same loyal soldier that learned very early that stumbling was not allowed. Trying new things often got ridiculed and when I did do things well, words were never said that applauded my efforts. Claiming 'being good at something" or being smart or talented wasn't possible in my home - no matter what I was doing at school or with friends.  Loyal soldier is careful about any claims that I might make out into the world because I'd best be able to defend anything that I claim as talent or skill. 

2. What am I afraid to see?

I'm afraid to see my shortcomings. I'm afraid that I'll be judged and people will turn away without giving me a chance to learn and grow and become more.

Or is it that I'm afraid to see how vibrant I am? How big, expansive and beautiful I can be when I am expressing my joy in 'designing the world I like to see?' Am I afraid that my vibrant self will go unobserved, unnoticed yet again (back to the old loyal soldier above)? 

3. How might I have to change if I follow this thread?

I might just have to give the old loyal soldier a hug and send them off to bed. I might have to embrace imperfection, change in my mind the words 'wasting materials' into 'prototyping' and 'learning tools'. I might have to let go of labels and simply do. I'd like to not worry or wonder where I am going - I can always look back later to answer that question. Living in the state of wonder. That sounds really nice.

4. What is the potential if I do follow this thread?

I will learn and grow and have fun. I may find new pathways and look out at the world with the lens of my own design eye.

5. Whatever stories I'm telling myself, are they true?

I've already alluded to some of my narratives - stories that are implicit and explicit from my early life. I'm glad that Kelly touched on this when she talks about "that little 'judgey' voice in your head" - which is the same as when I talk about the loyal soldier (a term out of the depth psychology work of Bill Plotkin). There are ways that we shy away from risk and change - ways that we work hard to stay safe. Untangling those voices that kept us safe from often very bad things as a child from the way we want to live our lives as we get older is the fodder for many a therapist's chair. That's important work that often needs the time and care of a good therapist to unravel what is true and what are the implicit narratives that have driven our behavioral patterns. 

And, Kelly is also right that this can be a rabbit hole where we can reinforce a story as a means to deflect away from what is at hand - can I hear the creative impulse over the whisper of the loyal soldier trying to keep me "safe"? Can I use the moments when I hear the 'shoulds' or the impulse to back away as a message that I'm on track to take a risk?  For me, those risks often have to do with exposure and being perceived as arrogant or vain. Exposure brings possible ridicule or embarrassment when found wanting. But here's the thing, I've already found the key to that in the other work I've done in my life - when I stay open and curious; when I claim the ability to keep learning; when I ask into the viewpoints and wisdom behind the questions of others; - oh, that grounded feeling is a wonderful place to be.  When fear of exposure elicits a need to protect a tender, vulnerable self - then I contract and shut down my own ability to flourish.  When I can step into exposure with humility and curiosity, I'm holding my self as grounded, soft, flexible, and open to new ideas. 

Well that was an interesting exercise. I'm not scratching my head anymore because this month's topic gave me a chance to deep dive into visualizing a more grounded way of being - that depends on curiosity as one of its cornerstones.  

Takeaway: Sometimes we need to understand our own motivations and stories as inherent ways that we block ourselves from stepping outside our comfort zone. Those little 'judgy' voices in your head are old, old tapes - give them a hug, thank them for protecting you - and find the first steps out into a new world of playful experimentation.