As I racked my brain last night trying to think of something to post, I was sort of hit with this moment of panic. “Is my life really so uncreative that, two days in to this month, I’m already stumped?” I asked myself. “Do I really go through the day without doing a single creative thing?”
I think that it probably has more to do with figuring out creative acts “good” enough to post. Recognizing the little creative choices we all make every day and deciding that it doesn’t need to be elaborate, it doesn’t even need to be visual. The little moments of creativity are what make mundane days livable, enjoyable even.
One nice result of this focus on creativity is that I’m letting my mind wander throughout the day, figuring something creative might result. And I’m finding connections where I might not otherwise. Today, I was walking across campus when I heard a man whistling. I recognized him. He’s an administrator, fairly high up the University totem pole, but his background is in music. He has this lovely, booming voice when he sings on stages, wearing a tux. Performing. But walking today on the quiet grounds, he was whistling to no one but himself. Although he might not spend as much time in front of classrooms and auditorium audiences as he once did, music is a part of him. It’s in his head, in his heart, all day long. No tux required. And I just found it so wonderfully inspiring. What a blessing to have a job that’s an extension of something you’d do anyway.
Creativity clearly comes naturally to him; he would probably self-identify as a creative person working in a creative field (or with a background in a creative field, at least). But I doubt he’d recognize his whistling as a creative act. Sometimes creativity comes less from big gestures, tuxes on stages, than from the music that fills an otherwise silent, rainy sidewalk on a Friday afternoon.