Creative People, Banish your Inner Bully!

Picture a tower of colorful building blocks.

In a nursery school, this tower is likely constructed by an adult. A toddler waddles up, thrashes her arms, and the blocks come tumbling down. What fun! Gravity works!

In a kindergarten, our tower is likely built by a few diligent five-year-olds. A mischief maker rushes in with a swift kick. Blocks scatter. Crying and finger pointing commence.

Creating is difficult; destroying is alarmingly easy. As I watch our current president take a wrecking ball to beloved national institutions and principles, I’m struck by how much power he yields. But his is the power of a grade school bully. Unlike the toddler, who knocks down out of curiosity and delight, Trump’s power is entirely destructive: brute force power, “power over,” coercive, inhumane.

The power of creatives is entirely opposite—often invisible, generative, on a human scale. When someone writes a journal entry or doodles on a grocery list, they make something out of nothing—perhaps the most truly powerful act possible. They contribute a bit of reflective depth or beauty or calm to our world. I consider this an upside-down power because it functions much like love, traversing a spiritual plane. It’s hard to identify, much less quantify. Really, it’s the only kind of power I’m interested in these days.

I’m currently taking a class taught by Sheryl Stowman on freeing ourselves from the inner critic (through Eye of the Heart; drop me a note if you’re interested), and I’m struck by how the internal judgments that most trip me up (What right do you have to say that? Who cares? Can’t you do something more productive?), despite containing fragments of truth, are based on an unequivocal falsehood—that I’m unworthy. Their underlying message is that I don’t deserve to exist. So interesting to watch this idea of worthiness writ large in national politics, as our leaders declare who is and isn’t worthy of being Americans, receiving funding, fighting in the military, playing sports, being leaders, voting… Suddenly I see how my internal voices perpetuate this destructive tendency. Suddenly I can do something about it.

If in this troubling time you’re looking for antidotes to powerlessness and despair, I suggest these: Work diligently to dismantle your inner saboteur. And lean into creativity, in whatever form, with whatever results. Then you’ll taste an upside-down power that’s also a limitless source of hope.

Warmly,
Elizabeth

Photo by Karl Abuid on Unsplash