Go into the arts.
I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable.
Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake.
Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem.
Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”
Kurt Vonnegut
— A Man Without a Country 2005
What is dissatisfaction, and what does it have to do with creativity? I was pondering this idea one morning as I sat and wrote using a method called Proprioceptive Writing. Proprioceptive Writing, developed by Linda Trichter Metcalf and Tobin Simon, is a way to explore the psyche through writing.
The Latin Proprius means “one’s own” or “individual” and perception of course is how we sense things.The idea behind Proprioceptive Writing is that in the process of doing it, your thoughts are slowed down yet continually being recognized and recorded. In this way, your focus is on a kind of “‘inner hearing.” When words that seem meaningful to you come up, you explore their deeper significance.
Dissatisfaction, Buddhists say, is part of the human condition. That’s why they are always asking us to connect with the present, to be fully aware of what we are experiencing now. When we are unaware, discontent, displeasure, disappointment, wanting things to be other than the way they are is our common lot. We’re all looking for some form of happiness, and it always seems to be elusive. At times, dissatisfaction can become extreme, to the point of desperation. What is desperation? I asked myself on the page. It is when the discontent, the wanting, the craving seems to be a hopeless state, without any options for fulfillment. In other words, when you know that no matter what happens you will be dissatisfied, what do you do? You connect with the present moment. One way to do that is to create.
As I continued to write, the feelings of dissatisfaction I had been having seemed to dissipate. And I realized it had been a while since I had done the kind of writing I need to do on a regular basis in order to feel whole. Since finishing my novel a couple of months ago, I hadn’t been in the state of flow I had experienced when I’d been working on it. That state of flow fed me, gave me the feeling that I was deeply connected to the inner workings of my own creative spirit.
It’s so important, I think, to find the creative impulse that exists within each of us and to make something out of it. Whether the way we express that desire is through writing, sculpting, painting, singing, dancing, acting, gardening, cooking, composing, raising a puppy, or starting a new project of any kind, it has to be just that one thing that you need to do. When you do something that comes from your heart, when you take action on the creative impulse within you, you become more intimate with yourself. And you retrieve something that seemed to be missing. You become more whole.
The dissatisfaction that many people experience, it seems to me, comes from the feeling of being incomplete, without a missing piece. It doesn’t matter what it is we are craving. When we are able to channel our desire into a creative form of expression that is meaningful to us, we attain a sense of inner satisfaction that can carry over into the rest of our lives. The feeling of flow that we have experienced in whatever time we have been able to devote to our passion somehow provides enough staying power to sustain us until the next time we enter it.
But the creative act must be unique to each of us. It’s not about what might be acceptable to others, or what might bring us success in worldly terms—although that kind of success is also possible.
We will also gain some kind of understanding—whether that is an understanding that can be verbalized or not. Somehow, a transformation will take place. But we won’t know what that is until we’ve allowed ourselves to be immersed in the creative process. And the wonderful thing is that there is no end to this kind of learning and change.
Many great artists are driven to create in order to release that power and wisdom which is inside of them—some of them up until their deaths. Titian accepted commissions until the end of his life. Renoir continued to paint into old age despite suffering from debilitating rheumatoid arthritis. William Blake was said to have drawn a portrait of his wife while on his deathbed.
The continuing act of creation offers one way for us to release the dormant wisdom inside of us, thereby transforming our lives and the lives of those around us.