On creativity, humility, and joy
As I have mentioned before, this July I agreed to work for a few weeks in the kids’ summer camp of a good friend of mine. Unfortunately, it turned out to be a massively wrong decision, based on both sides’ miscalculations and allegedly good intentions. There are no good intentions, though, when one puts oneself in an unpleasant situation: there is only imbalance – and a lesson to be learnt.
For one, the job itself was as menial as it could be – largely, courtesy of the public sector’s bureaucracy. I got entangled in nonsensical tasks, repeated in an endless loop for more than twelve hours per day, the lot requiring no expertise, just minimum attention. The position would barely be suitable for a young professional, let alone an individual of my calibre. Still, I decided to run a small experiment – following the example of Einstein’s patent office years – and check if a humdrum job would free up my mind, ultimately leading to more creativity. As it turned out: no. One might feel relaxed when doing the dishes, cleaning the house, or doodling on a piece of paper but gets stifled by endless hours of suffocating work. To be innovative and visionary, both mind and heart need ample time to dream, visualise, and enjoy the unfolding. With such uninspired jobs around, no wonder creativity and originality remain elusive.
In addition, I found the experience profoundly humbling and, because of that, often uncomfortable. Day after day, I would silently revolt for being stuck in a situation where my talents were neither appreciated nor in use. Initially, I chose to take this as an exercise in humility – and was surprised by its difficulty. Soon I realised, though, that it was not an opportunity to tame my ego but, instead, to hone my sense of self-worth. Even though the specific case is exaggerated since no professional in her right mind would choose to put herself in this situation, it got indelibly etched into my memory, making sure I will never forget again that, regardless of social conventions, beliefs, or perceived obligations, my time is too precious to be wasted. Having become much more discerning and protective of my life, I am focusing now with renewed determination on what I regard as the ultimate purpose of my being. If this was meant to be the silver lining of the experience, perhaps it was worth it.
The above challenges were quickly compounded with the emergence of a steep number of Covid cases that bled the camp to the bone, leaving it eerily empty for days. In the depressing silence and tension that followed, an unexpected musical trio emerged, spreading joy and much-needed comfort. A young boy had brought his saxophone with him and would practice with passion and diligence every afternoon, the repetition of his limited repertoire driving us crazy at the beginning. He was soon joined by another boy playing the flute and a third who would sway his body at the rhythm, holding a hat to welcome tips from the crowd. As the trio’s potential audience was diminished to the few who had remained in the camp, mostly personnel rather than children, the impromptu band would go door-to-door, performing with admirable tenacity Bella Ciao and Careless Whisper over and over, provoking smiles, some singing, lots of clapping, and cascades of coins into the hat. We, humans, have been built with grit, incorporated into the standard specifications of our species. Even on a gloomy day, rest assured: joy will find its way into our hearts. If it is not around us, we will just improvise and create it from scratch. There is hope in remembering this.
Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou
