Creative Stillness

Sep 3, 2011 by rus vanwestervelt

Constant preoccupation with the day-to-day affairs of the world sets up a giant roadblock in the way of our creativity. When we are with others, we are merrily dancing in the world of busyness and activity. It is when we are alone that we venture into the realm of imagination. Jill Jepson

We are caught in a paradoxical state, aren’t we? In one moment, we are told to go out there, get involved, gain experience, move about, interact, and be a contributing force to our community. In another moment, we are told to slow down, practice stillness, allow the creative juices to flow in stillness as it is seemingly impossible to do while being so busy.

Throughout this last week, as school got into full swing after the delays brought on by Hurricane Irene, I found myself constantly finding reasons to avoid creative stillness. There was too much to do, I kept telling myself. There’s no time for me. If I stop doing the work, then I will get behind. I must keep moving. Must keep doing. No time to stop.

Then I started to feel fatigued. The negativity began to creep in a bit, and I could feel the exhaustion taking over. I finally had the sense (and the strength) to remind myself that I needed to refill the energy tank and make the time for some creative stillness.

“When the mind is very quiet,

completely still,

when there is not a movement

of thought and therefore no experience,
no observer, then that very stillness
has its own creative understanding.

In that stillness the mind is transformed into something else.”

J. Krishnamurti, Spiritual Philosopher (1895-1986)

One cannot live without the other. Just as night needs day, water needs land, and sun needs rain, we need to provide for ourselves the creative stillness that brings about the necessary balance in our lives. And regardless of their distinct opposites, they strengthen each other.

The Tao te Ching puts this paradox in perspective:

We join spokes together in a wheel,

But it is the center hole

That makes the wagon move.

We shape clay into a pot,

But it is the emptiness inside

That holds whatever we want.

We hammer wood for a house,

But it is the inner space

That makes it livable.

We work with being,

But non-being is what we use.

Joining, shaping, hammering — all fully realized by the space each provides.

Last month, as I was building my daughter’s barn for her Breyer horses, she kept focusing on the space inside — the emptiness we were creating for her horses to have the room to be happy.

This is what we need to do for our own selves: build that busyness around us to gain those experiences, give back, and live. But to do any and all of these things fully, we need to provide the creative stillness in our lives to transcend and realize the possibilities of synthesis, to discover new, imaginative, and exciting creations out of that non-being.

Build that space for creative stillness in your busy lives, and allow new ideas to emerge from the hard work you continue to do.

Photo: Andy Ilachinski, http://tao-of-digital-photography.blogspot.com/

Rus VanWestervelt is a writer, photographer, owner of Ravenwater Press, and Teacher-Consultant with the National Writing Project. He is the founder and editor of Maryland Voices, a creative nonfiction journal for high school writers and educators. Rus has published hundreds of articles locally and nationally, and nearly all of them relate to writing and living an inspired life. His latest work of fiction, Cold Rock, will be released this fall. For more information about Rus and his work with writers, you can visit his website here.