Eating a Flashlight and Sucking Up Dust

My nine-month-old baby is definitely in the oral stage of cognitive development.  Just before sunrise this morning when she and I were the only ones awake in our dark house, I handed her a small, flashlight to play with.  I thought she would like watching the projected light move by her direction. But she didn’t give a hoot about the light’s movements–she just stuffed the thing, rather awkwardly, light side in, into her wide-open little mouth. She tests everything this way.   She’s learned puke-green pea puree from a baby food jar is bad.  If she sees it coming–she purses her lips tight.   She’s decided pretzel sticks sprinkled with sea salt are worth holding tightly.  It’s like her mouth is directly connected to her brain’s dopamine generators.  When an object or texture feels good in her mouth, dopamine is released in her growing brain and the moment turns into a pleasurable memory–an Invariant Representation or hook for pleasurable experiences to come.  When something is gross enough to spit out there’s no such rush of dopamine.  The momentary displeasure turns into a different sort of learned experience–knowing what to avoid.  Dopamine provides teaching signals to parts of the brain responsible for acquiring new behavior.

My baby’s dopaminergic engine is running on turbo at this time in her young life.  Her capacity to recover from downers is mythological, even phoenician.  She doesn’t stay down after a displeasure, no matter how intense.  She just flies again into the unknown assuming new pleasures and new life.  Creative people retain–or in some cases re-acquire, this ability to learn from mistakes and move on, fast. The more tries, the better.  Dopamine island hopping.

Several years ago, I finally bought a vacuum cleaner I liked.  It has no bags to empty and sucks up popcorn or long hair without a glitch even years after its first use.  Marine engineer and architect, James Dyson, created a better vacuum by using the same cyclone technology used in saw mills to increase his vacuum’s suction power lifespan to–virtually endless.  Dyson, like most inventors, first made a garage-full of very bad devises.  He could not stay depressed about mistakes for long but he did not repeat mistakes either.  The dopamine engine in Dyson’s brain worked overtime signaling and directing towards his final “perfect” vacuum system. Dyson says,

I made 5,127 prototypes of my vacuum before I got it right. There were 5,126 failures. But I learned from each one. That’s how I came up with a solution. So I don’t mind failure.

Babies move on quickly, as do successful inventors.  But when creative-types linger over mistakes rather than moving forward quickly, they end up parched for lack of dopamine.  Then learning from mistakes is no longer natural or endurable.  James Dyson says,

I’ve always thought that schoolchildren should be marked by the number of failures they’ve had. The child who tries strange things and experiences lots of failures to get there is probably more creative.

Counting mistakes?!  Rocket on!  I’ve made several just posting this blog.  But who cares, I’m taking flight all over again.

Talk to you tomorrow when I’ll need it again.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Focusing Energy Towards Creation (Part 10)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity.  Yesterday, I wrote Walking Into the Unknown, in the Dark.

Highly Creative people are passionate on many levels and they bring it all– their passions, their knowledge, their observations, their entire lives, to the Creation table.

Some are lucky enough to grow up in an intellectually rich environment and they grow up surrounded by passion for life and learning.

As a child, British theoretical psychologist Nicholas Humphrey ran around his family’s huge house  and its gardens with his four siblings, two orphaned cousins, fifteen other cousins who lived within walking distance and many friends, including the young Stephen Hawkings. Humphrey’s mother, a psychiatrist who worked with Sigmund Freud’s daughter, Anna Freud, and his father–a Peace activist and Nobel Laureate who also directed the National Institute for Medical Research, where he did seminal research on antibody formation, ran a busy household.  Humphrey says,

We went around in droves and stayed with one another in nearly unmanageable numbers.

But the major event of each week was the visit to my maternal grandparents, the Hills.  The company at these Sunday parties usually spanned three and sometimes four generations, with my grandfather’s colleagues and students invited to sit down with his offsprings’ offspring–high chairs on one side, wheelchairs sometimes on the other.

As children, we lived and breathed science.

The guests at Humphrey’s grandparents were all scientists.  His aunts, uncles and both of his grandfathers were also all scientists.

When the children finished their tea, they would be excused and sent out to play in the acres of land surrounding the mansion. Humphrey says,

My grandfather would not neglect us for long.  Almost every week he devised some new game or experiment: frog races, archery, kite-flying, or perhaps, if the weather was bad, a magic lantern show.  On one memorable occasion, he produced a sheep’s head acquired from the butcher, and placing it on the kitchen table (to the cook’s great distress), he dissected it in front of us.

Humphrey grew up with a sense of intellectual entitlement.  He could ask anything, provoke, pry and go where he pleased in his pursuit of knowledge.  Humphrey says,

To be a good scientist surely requires such audacity.  How else dare anyone do what a scientist is required to do:  to challenge Nature to undress before one’s eyes?

Yet, Humphrey thinks all this privilege could have a downside.  He did nor have to struggle to become a scientist.

I have never experienced any real surprise or sense of achievement at having made it.

I wonder whether, in the end, having been born to be a scientist has not undercut my right to call myself a scientist at all.

Of his grandfathers, both first generation scientists, Humphrey says,

The passion they put into their work was the passion of scientists who daily counted their blessings for being allowed to do science–and who were determined to pay a debt with single-minded dedication.

In order to have passion, you must be exposed to something worth being passionate about.  Humphrey had plenty of exposure on the wonders of science. He did wonder and stand in awe of Nature, but such passion was handed down to him, and so he felt not quite worthy.

Other Highly Creative people are lucky enough to have parents who support them wholeheartedly in much smaller, but immensely meaningful ways.

Rodney Brooks, founder of iRobot and Director of the MIT Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory, grew up as the star-child in his Australian working class family.  He says,

My father and mother had ninth- and tenth-grade educations…none of their friends had finished high school either.

But Brooks could manipulate numbers in his head at a young age.  He says.

I had an obsession with the regularity of arithmetic.

When his parents built a carport next to the house, some extra backyard space was freed up and Brook’s father built one bench each for his two children so they could tinker with wires and other extras he had left over from his telephone repair business.

Brooks’ parents could not give him their passion for inventing, because they did not have it themselves to give. But they gave him space, some materials, lots of time to try things out and a book titled Giant Electronic Brains. which described the binary system and how computers could outperform an abacus expert doing arithmetic. Brook’s energy for Creative work and passion grew with time spent on doing what he loved to do as a child– inventing and tinkering with wires and numbers.

Creativity scholar Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi says,

Creative individuals have a great deal of physical energy…they work long hours, with great concentration, while projecting an aura of freshness and enthusiasm.

This does not mean that Creative persons are hyperactive, always “on”, constantly churning away.  In fact they often take rests and sleep a lot.  The important thing is that the energy is under their own control.

The first enemies of Creation are apathy and satisfaction with the status quo,  but the biggest is the lack of ability to focus your energy towards Creation.

A good friend of mine grew up in a home where perfection was expected of her and her siblings in every area of life and achievement.  She remembers a constant sub-clinical fear of not being good enough but also not knowing what good enough could ever be.  Several months ago she began attending Al-Anon meetings, which are groups where relatives of alcoholics or other addicts, including “clean” addictions, like perfectionism meet to support each other towards healing.  When I asked her what she was getting out of her Al-Alon group time, she gave me a bookmark with some of the core Al-Anon sayings like the following three I picked out:

  • Just for today:  I will have a program.  I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it.  I will save myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.
  • Just for today:  I will have a quiet half hour all by myself and relax.  During this half hour, sometime, I will try to get a better perspective of my life.
  • Just for today:  I will be unafraid.  I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful and to believe that as I give to the world, so the world will give to me.

When I read my friend’s bookmark, I realized some of the Al-Anon sayings describe how Highly Creative people find ways to Create, no matter whether they grew up well supported or not.

Ivan Pavlov, famous for his dog experiments wrote in his final testament:

Remember that science demands from a man all his life.  If you had two lives, that would be not enough for you.  Be passionate in your work and your searchings.

Passion for Creative pursuits is built by giving to that work you love–everything you have, regardless of your opportunities.  Sometimes your grow into a life that respects Creative work, like some grow up in emotionally healthy families.  But not all Highly Creative people are so lucky.  Those that do not have their pasts on their side teach themselves to harness everything they have for Creation, just like a child of an alcoholic teaches himself to live a healthy life.


Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Walking into the Unknown, in the Dark (Part 9)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity.  Last time, I wrote Spending More Time at the Office.

Highly Creative people search for the intellectual edge in their fields because that is where questions that have never been answered–by anyone, twinkle.  But they don’t stay on the edge indefinitely. They gather all they know and step  into true darkness looking for light.

When the giant Orion–of Homer’s epic The Odyssey, lost his sight, he took up  his servant Cedalion and set him upon his shoulders to see for him. They walked together thousands of miles towards the rising sun-god Helios who restored Orion’s sight. The pair would never have reached the sun if they had stayed close to the giant Orion’s known world.  Little Cedalion had to lead, because he could see.

Quantum physicist David Bohm said,

A [Creative] scientist cannot be similar to Einstein in the quality of creativity if he merely applies what Einstein did to new problems, or even varies, extends, and develops it so that it reveals its full implications in synthetic combinations with other theories already known. Nor, of course, would a scientist be creative merely reacting against Einstein’s work or by ignoring it altogether.

According to Bohm, the key to Creativity in science lies in perceiving the differences and similarities between Einstein’s work–or the work of other giants of science, and your own. Creative scientists take what they know and compare it to what they see.

The most Creative scientist of the 20th century, Albert Einstein saw in his imagination what it would be like to ride on a beam of light. His mind stayed on this picture for ten years.  The picture held both his questions and his answers.  Could I travel as fast as light? Could I travel faster? Einstein answered these questions with his Special Theory of Relativity.

Clarity and truth lie in what you see, not just for scientists, but for creative-types in every field.

Architect Frank Lloyd Wright fell in love with Tuscany’s architecture when he lived near Florence.  But he never designed a Tuscan-style home or office complex. Instead he went home, to the American Prairie, and saw its colors, contours and truths.  Wright sought total integration within his designs. In his designs, buildings, furnishings and natural surroundings became a part of a unified, interrelated composition. This total integration produced a type of building new to human architecture and led to Wright’s recognition in 1991 by the American Institute of Architects as “the greatest American architect of all time”.

Wright said,

Every great architect is – necessarily – a great poet. He must be a great original interpreter of his time, his day, his age.

Creative writers also step up to the edge of their field, but they often walk into a different kind of unknown–the unknown within the human heart. Literary editor Betsy Lerner says,

The more popular culture and the media fail to present the real pathos of our human struggle, the more opportunity there is more writers who are unafraid to present stories that speak emotional truth, or that make such intimate connection that briefly we become children again,  listening with rapt attention,  the satin binding of our blankets pulled up to our chins.

At a time when people are encouraged to follow their bliss, to pursue whatever makes them feel good,  I suggest you stalk your demons.

If you are a writer, especially one who has been unable to make your work count or stick, you must grab your demons by the neck and face them down.

You must turn your ambivalence into something unequivocal.

Creators gather all they know and step  into confusion and ambivalence, without or despite fear, looking for light.  They walk into the unknown in the dark because Creation exists only there.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Spending More Time at the Office (Part 8)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote Collecting Multiple Lives and Points of Reference.

Highly Creative people die wishing they had more life left to solve humanity’s puzzles and mysteries.

I first heard the quote Nobody on his deathbed ever said, ‘I wish I had spent more time at the office,’ from a pastor exhorting workaholics in his congregation to spend more time with their families. Paul Tsongas, a former U.S, Senator who dropped dreams of becoming U.S. President to battle lymphoma, first heard it from a lawyer friend.  Tsongas wrote in his 1994 book,

an old friend, Arnold Zack, wrote to me in a letter, “No one on his deathbed ever said, ‘I wish I had spent more time on my business.

This quote may be sweet enough to pull at a politician’s heart, but means little to a physician burning the midnight oil to discover a cure for cancer or a physicist writing the Theory of Everything or a playwright writing the play that will change the way we understand what it means to be human.

Highly Creative people work because if they don’t, their soul dies.  They know, at their core, what they were meant to do with their time on Earth. They cannot fully live without the work they love.  Historian David McCullough said,

Real success is finding your lifework in the work that you love.

Real success is what Creativity scholar Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi calls full-blast living. Highly Creative people love their children and spend time with loved ones.  But there is no such thing as balance between their life and their work.  Seeking such balance would be like wanting to balance life and food.  Highly Creative people eat, sleep, drink water and they work. Everything else drops off the edge of their universe.

Vincent van Gogh said,

One must work and dare if one really wants to live.

Swiss Philosopher Henri Frederic Ameil said,

Work while you have the light. You are responsible for the talent that has been entrusted to you.

French writer Francoise de Motteville said,

The true way to render ourselves happy is to love our work and find in it our pleasure.

But I think the Highly Creative Lebanese-American poet Kahlil Gibran said it best. Gibran wrote,

Work is love made visible.

And if you cannot work with love but only with distaste, it is better that you should leave your work and sit at the gate of the temple and take alms of those who work with joy.

*Painting by Scott Davidson.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Collecting Multiple Lives and Points of Reference (Part 7)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote Knowing Life and Seeing Death.

Creation requires multiple points of reference-multiple lives and viewpoints, all in the mind of one Creator.

Creativity scholar, Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi says,

If I had to express in one word what makes [creative persons'] personalities different from others, it would be complexity…

They contain contradictory extremes–instead of being an “individual”, each of them is a “multitude”.

A few years ago, Time Magazine published an unranked list of 100 Best Novels published in the English language between 1923 (the launching year for the magazine) and 2005.  I scanned this list and looked at the early lives of a couple of writers whose books made the list– Vladimir Nabokov (Lolita) and Ian McEwan (Atonement) These acclaimed novelists inhabited multiple worlds, even as children.

Vladimir Nabokov’s family fled the Russian Revolution in 1917 to seek refuge in Germany. They later moved to England and eventually to the United States.  While in Germany, Nabokov became a chess master and created a series of chess moves and solutions he published in German. He studied literature at Cambridge. He also studied entomology at Harvard University and worked in the Museum of Natural History in Manhattan. But the most interesting of Nabokov’s accomplishments is that although he wrote his first nine novels in Russian, he decided to change languages–to English, while writing his tenth novel.  Lolita, his most famous novel, was his third novel written in English.
Ian McEwen– although born in England, spent much of his childhood in Singapore, Germany and North Africa (including Libya), where his father, a Scottish army officer, was posted.  He learned multiple languages and made friends with children throughout the world.
But fleeing from fascists, speaking five languages before your first date or befriending all the children of the world are not the only ways to live multiple lives.
Nabokov said,

It’s a pity one can’t imagine what one can’t compare to anything. Genius is an African who dreams up snow.

For someone who has never seen or felt snow to dream it up, he must experience– if only in minuscule portions, multiple elements of what makes snow.

Toni Morrison, also a novelist, and also on the Time list for her book Beloved, did not travel the world as a child. Her working class, Depression-Era family could barely scratch together enough cash to buy warm clothes in the winter.  Part of Morrison’s childhood was spent in the South under the worst circumstances of racism– extreme poverty and no hope for a better future. When she was ten, her father moved the family to a small town in Ohio, where racism had less agency.

Morrison imagined her other worlds.  On cold, Ohio winter evenings, Morrison’s family sat around the dinner table listening to and telling each other tales of spirits and magic. They foretold the future and sang African-American songs rich with allegories of life in unseen worlds.  And while her high school friends and classmates gossiped and flirted with her other, Morrison immersed herself in Nineteenth-century English life and pre-Revolutionary Russian existential angst by reading the world’s best literature.

Morrison merged her lived world and imagined elements from other worlds to write her Nobel prize-winning novel.

Highly Creative writers are not alone in containing multiple worlds and lives within their own.  Csikzentmihalyi says,

Like the color white that includes all the hues in the spectrum, [creative people] tend to bring together the entire range of human possibilities within themselves.
A complex personality does not imply neutrality, or the average. It is not some position at the midpoint between to poles…Rather it involves the ability to move from one extreme to the other as the occasion requires.
Harvard evolutionary biologist E.O. Wilson grew up Southern Baptist.  Uniting his experience in two worlds he knows inside out–the evangelical Christian South and the more skeptical world of Science, Wilson wrote The Creation, meant to unite all lovers of Nature, regardless of philosophical stance.
Julia Morgan, architect of some of California’s most beautiful buildings, including Hearst Castle, grew up in San Francisco in the early 20th century and studied as the only woman at UC Berkeley in the civil engineering department. She also traveled around Europe and became the first woman to graduate  from the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris.  Morgan incorporated her many experiences into her now famous work.

Regardless of domain, Highly Creative people possess multiple points of reference-gained through true experience or as close to true experience as possible, to Create.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Knowing Life and Seeing Death (Part 6)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote Thinking Complex Thoughts–but, Showing No Great Acts, as Children.

Highly Creative people intuitively know life.  Often, this knowledge comes with deep loss, either real or symbolic.

In Greek Mythology, the white-winged horse–Pegasus, symbolizes dimensions of divine creativity unperceived by mortals.

In her bestselling Harry Potter series, writer J.K Rowling introduces another mythical creature, the Thestral. Thestrals are also winged horses, but unlike Pegasus, they are spooky and disturbing to spot. Their leathery, bat-like wings  seem more pre-historic than heavenly and the penetrating stares of their full-white eyes, bother. The flock of Thestrals at Harry Potter’s school is used mainly to pull the carriages transporting students. Only certain people can actually see Thestrals at work. Most students think the carriages run on their own power and don’t question how they actually work.

When Harry Potter first sees the Thestrals, he asks a fellow student, Luna,

What are they?

Luna says,

They’re called Thestrals. They’re quite gentle, really… But people avoid them because they’re a bit…

Harry says,

Different. But why can’t the others see them?

Luna explains,

They can only be seen by people who’ve seen death.

Rowling’s Thestrals incorporate the ancient idea that a knowledge of good (life) and evil (death) facilitates perception of full truth. Rowling herself, had just begun writing the first Harry Potter book, when her mother died. In an interview, she said,

I know I was writing Harry Potter at the moment my mother died.

I had never told her about [him].

Barely a day goes by when I do not think of her. There would be so much to tell her, impossibly much.

Rowling said the death left her “a wreck”, and was the inspiration for Harry’s orphan status.  Rowling’s experience with loss is not unique among the Highly Creative throughout history. Benjamin Franklin tells of his loss in his Autobiography.  He said,

In 1736 I lost one of my sons, a fine boy of four years old, by the smallpox taken in the common way. I long regretted bitterly and still regret that I had not given it to him by inoculation.

In 1851, Charles Darwin’s ten year-old daughter Anne died, leaving Darwin crippled with guilt and devastated to the point of near insanity. Eight years later, he published his theory of Natural Selection. His book, The Origin of Species, incorporated death– for the first time in the history of Western civilization, as a natural part of the life cycle–rather than a result of Sin. American writer Mark Twain, also watched a loved one die–his wife. In his Autobiography, Twain wrote,

In all my (nearly) seventy-four years I have seen only one person whom I would marry, & I have lost her.

Journalist Tim Adams writes of Twain’s further losses. He says,

This sense of loneliness was compounded by the fact that Twain had by then also buried two of his four children – a good deal of his reminiscence [for his autobiography] comes in response to moving little scraps of notes that his daughter Susy had prepared for a book about him, before she died; another daughter, Jean, would predecease him in the course of his narration.

Twain saw life differently forever after. He wrote,

Since those days, I have pitied doctors from my heart. What does the lovely flush in a beauty’s cheek mean to a doctor but a “break” that ripples above some deadly disease? Are not all her visible charms sown thick with what are to him the signs and symbols of hidden decay? Does he ever see her beauty at all, or does n’t he simply view her professionally, and comment upon her unwholesome condition all to himself? And does n’t he sometimes wonder whether he has gained most or lost most by learning his trade?

A very short list of other Highly Creative people who experienced deep loss before Creating follows:

  • German chemist August Kekulé lost his wife a few years before he published his famous theories on the structure of benzene in 1865.
  • Writer J.M. Barrie‘s older brother died at  age 13.  His parents never got over their loss. Barrie used this confusion he carried from childhood to create Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up.
  • Nobel laureate Marie Curie lost her husband, Pierre, before her major discoveries.
  • Thomas Jefferson became an orphan at age 13.
  • Novelist Charlotte Bronte first lost her mother and then her five siblings, at regular intervals, throughout her short life .
  • Coco Chanel’s mother died when she was 13.  Her father then left his six children to fend for themselves.
  • The mother of modern Management, Lillian Moller-Gilbreth lost a six-year old child to tuberculosis.

Not all loss is ushered by a physical death. Some loss is more symbolic.  For example, architect Frank Lloyd Wright‘s parents divorced when he was 14 years old.  His father sued his mother for lack of physical attention and left the young Wright as the sole financial provider to his mother and sisters. Contemporary writer Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, also experienced deep loss through divorce, her own.

Deep loss opens the eyes and mind to dimensions of life unperceived by those who have not yet tasted life– in full. Highly Creative people intuitively know life because they have seen death, either real or symbolic, and channel this intuition for Creation.


Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Thinking Complex Thoughts–But, Showing No Great Acts as Children ( Part 5)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote Working Wherever They Can–When They Can.

Highly Creative people try to figure out the grand themes of life, even as children.

I took my children ice skating at a local indoor rink, one Tuesday morning, a few weeks ago.  They had the ice pretty much to themselves–except for a young figure skater, practicing her sit-spins to perfection, just south of the rink’s center. I sat on the sidelines and took in the scene of my happy, rosy children, pushing themselves to master the very basics of ice skating.

When I turned my attention to the figure skater, I did a double-take.  The girl’s eyes where barely open. She was breathing hard, deep, and fast, and either sweat or tears flew around her head.  When she slowed down, she stood  and glided slightly closer to her mother, who also sat on the sidelines. The mother scowled and yelled at her daughter in a language I could not understand.  The child sobbed loudly, now.  The mother shook her head, No.

I don’t know if the girl wanted to stop altogether or just wanted to quit spins, but her mother shook her head fifty times, determined to not give an inch. I watched the girl spin again and could find no fault in her technique.  Obviously, her expert mother did and so her expectations were set higher than mine. I never got the girl’s name, but I can see part of her future. I think I’ll be able to pick her out of an Olympic hopefuls line-up in 2018.

The girl is clearly talented. But if skater-girl is to Create, she’ll channel her energy towards thinking about her predicament and using her skills to show the world her truth.

Highly Creative people think a lot about the paradoxes of love and death and fear, specially when they’re young.  They wonder how the world works and why adults get angry. They think about why some children cry a lot or why someone loves them.

Highly Creative people aren’t always so easy to spot as children. Creativity researcher Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi says,

How creative [people] eventually become bears little relationship to how talented they were as children.

What might be easier to spot in the childhoods of  future Creators is glimpses of complex thought.

Matriarch of  the Peace Studies field, Elise Boulding, pondered on her fears as a child.  She says,

The fear of war in my childhood was the fear of being gassed, from the stories and movies of world war I.

I had a fantasy as a child that if there should be another war I would go to Norway, which is where I was born, and go into the mountains and live in a cabin and be safe. All my mother;s stories were of Norway being the good place.

The problems Boulding saw in the world as a child, drove her work the rest of her life.

Stanford neuroscience professor and primotologist Robert Sapolsky wrote in Curious Minds: How a Child Becomes a Scientist,

How did I end up a scientist? By all logic, I should start with Gilligan’s Island, a sitcom that entranced me when I was an eight-year-old growing up in Brooklyn.

Sapolsky wanted to be just like the show’s character, the Professor.

The professor can do anything…[but] what really got me was his presumed connection to Mary Ann, the pretty farm girl in flannel shirt and pigtails.  This connection I derived soley from the show’s theme song, which went “there’s Gillian, the skipper, a millionaire and his wife, a movie star, the Professor and MaryAnn…” Because their names were linked, I assumed that the two of them must have had something going.  In my prepubescent fog, this involved a lot of hand-holding.  So it was only natural that I wanted to grow up and be the Professor and spend my time out in some remote field site.

Sapolsky is now a professor and spends half his year in Africa, studying the love-making and war-mongering habits of primates in the wild. He also researches how social status affects stress responses and life happiness in humans and African monkeys.

Sapolsky thought about love and status as a child.  Boulding thought about fear and war as a child.  They came up with simple plans back then, then spent the rest of their lives thinking about the grand problems all humans live out.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Using Strengths & Shadows (Part 3)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote Searching For and Revising What Is.

Highly Creative people use their more obvious natural inclinations– their strengths, and their shadow sides– their struggles, for Creation.

On a cool Spring day in 1920 Zürich, Psychiatrist Carl Jung finished writing his–now famous, Psychological Types. Jung wrote,

In my practical medical work–of over 20 years–with nervous patients I have long been struck by the fact that besides the many individual differences in human psychology there are also typical differences.  The two types especially clear to me;  I have termed them the introverted and the extroverted types.

I must presume unduly upon the goodwill of the reader…it would be relatively simple to [explain my theory] if every reader knew to which category he belonged.

Ninety years later educated people– the world over, know to which Jungian type they belong.  If you are the life in a party– you’re extroverted; if you hang out by the wall, well, you’re introverted. But Carl Jung believed people with mature personalities knew their natural inclinations–such as extroversion, and their shadow. Jung’s term shadow refers to the hidden, unconscious, suppressed or just less developed human traits each individual possesses.  Each person’s shadow is her own cross to bear. Jung wrote,

The shadow belongs to the wholeness of the personality: the strong man must somewhere be weak, somewhere the clever man must be stupid, otherwise he is too good to be true and falls back on pose and bluff. Is it not an old truth that woman loves the weaknesses of the strong man more than his strength, and the stupidity of the clever man more than his cleverness ?

Since Creative work often requires large doses of alone-time, naturally extroverted Creators develop their shadow side– their introverted selves, to focus on their work without external interruptions. Creativity scholar Mihalyi Csikszentmihalyi says,

The stereotype of the solitary genius is strong and gets ample support also from our interviews [of hundreds of Highly Creative people].  After all, one must generally be alone in order to write, paint, or do experiments in a laboratory.

As we know from studies of young talented people, teenagers who cannot stand being alone tend not to develop their skills because practicing music or studying math requires a solitude they dread.

But, because ideas do not explode upon the Universe in silence, the naturally introverted–who spend no energy learning to be alone,  must call out their extroverted shadow to test and expand Creation. Ideas must– in the words of Science writer Matt Ridley, have sex with other ideas. Cskizentmihalyi says,

Over and over again, the importance of seeing people, hearing people, exchanging ideas, and getting to know another person’s work and mind are stressed by creative individuals.

Physicist John Wheeler says,

If you don’t kick things around with people, you are out of it.  Nobody, I always say, can be anybody without somebody being around.

Michelangelo, naturally reserved and quiet, sat countless hours among his patrons in the Medici court. Isaac Newton–another introvert, debated hours-on-end with his Royal Society friends. Mark Twain, laughed and made others laugh.  Parties started when he arrived, but he declined countless invitations so he could be alone to Create. All three used both their natural inclinations– their strengths, and their shadow sides– their struggles, for Creation.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Searching For and Revising What Is (Part 2)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote Playing and Working on the Edge.

Highly Creative people search for truth and revise.

In every field, the search for truth is the driving force for Creation. Creators keep opening up humanity’s Pandora’s box to find what really is. In any field, even Mathematics, Truth is still mysterious. Albert Einstein said,

As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain, and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality.

Truth is yet to be fully reconciled, in Science or Art or Literature or History. One of the first concepts I introduce my college history students to, is that what they hear in and read for my classes is not necessarily Truth.  My lectures are based on what I understand to be true and important.  I assign living books, those written to uncover the panoply of human drama and questioning past misunderstandings to uncover Truth. I encourage my students to question what they hear and read, to try on the historian’s hat and revise.  Pulitzer-Prize winning Historian, James McPherson said,

There is no single, eternal, and immutable “truth” about past events and their meaning. The unending quest of historians for understanding the past—that is, “revisionism”—is what makes history vital and meaningful.

Like Socrates, Highly Creative people know they know nothing. They feel small in the Universe, like children, still figuring out reality. Einstein knew numbers well. Still, he said,

Do not worry about your problems with mathematics, I assure you mine are far greater.

Highly Creative people search for truth, and wrestle with it, like the biblical Jacob wrestled with God, until they see what really is.

French Philosopher Simone de Beauvoir said,

Art is an attempt to integrate evil.

Creators search for Truth. They wrestle with what they find, truth, lies and whatever else, until they figure out one tiny portion of the Universe and present the rest of us with their revision.

Characteristics of Highly Creative People: Playing and Working on the Edge (Part 1)

For ten days I’m writing about what it really takes to be Highly Creative and whether greater opportunities make for greater Creativity. Yesterday I wrote the Introduction to this series.

Highly Creative people put in the time to know their field inside and out and look for the edge, then they shoot for it and play there. They head for the unknown, instead of staying comfortable in the thick of current thinking. Children do this.

My children are all wearing aprons and shoes and have cleaned under their fingernails with a small brush. Celine, our French cooking instructor, is teaching them how to make apple tarts.  As apples melt into sugar in a pot on the stove, the smell–rich with hues of cinnamon and butter, relaxes everyone. Celine says,  And then you are going to get some apple here and on the top you’re going to add a little bit of sugar. Everyone follows her instructions.

Suddenly, my six-year old says, Oh!  Stop it! What are you doing! I turn to catch my son chewing, mouth full so he can hardly keep his lips closed.  The six-year-old says, Mom, he’s eating the dough!

My eight-year-old son follows the rules and then shoots for the edge, not always, but definitely if he’s fully engaged in an activity.

Highly Creative people keep their childhood drive to shoot for the edge of the known.

Eighteenth century French mathematician, physicist and philosopher, Sophie Germain, shot for the intellectual edge of her time. She was not trying to debunk myths regarding women’s ability to engage in abstraction.  She just loved mathematics and spent her time pursuing what she loved, numbers.  Her mother worried for her social life.  Her father taught her all he knew about mathematics and introduced her to famous intellectuals, but asked her not too study past midnight. But Sophie never bothered to check the clock.  Daily, she traded intellectual comfort for intellectual adventure and pushed to where she knew the edge of knowledge to be. She became a pioneer of elasticity theory and worked on Fermat’s Last Theorem to provide a foundation for mathematicians exploring the subject even two hundred years later.

Gregor Mendel, the father of genetics, also shot for the intellectual edge of his day. He actively sought the biggest question in Science and once he found it, he began his studies of heredity with peas. Mendel played and worked on the edge until he discovered how genes function in living organisms.

Highly Creative people look for the intellectual edge, for questions that have not been answered by anyone, then they shoot for it and play there.

%d bloggers like this: