The Most Creative Person I've Known

The most creative person I’ve ever known.  Hmmmm.  Let me think.  At the risk of sounding egotistical, the most creative person I’ve ever known is me.  Let me be more precise, however, and the egotism may vanish into thin air.  The most creative person I’ve ever known was the me that used to exist.  I used to feel as though ideas and projects would flow from my mind.  In a way, I think I’ve now gotten to the point where I am too rigid, not spontaneous enough.  I need to find the creative person I once knew.  I need to find the child living inside of me.

The child lives under layers.  I have the layers of stress that come from striving to provide for a family and work for an organization.   I have layers of disillusionment that have come from seeing the way people treat others in the dog-eat-dog world of today.  I must break through layers of hard crusty shell in order to reach me; in order to find me. 

I was creative because I didn’t let others dictate how I should feel about certain events in my life.  I was creative because I would ignore life and let the inner child come to the surface.  I was able to dream big and truly believe my dreams had a great chance of being realized.

 I would play football in the backyard by myself.  I would envision the other players on the field.  I would, quite literally, become the quarterback and receiver on the same play.  It was always difficult.  I always needed a last second come from behind win.  Sometimes the clock would tick down to zero, I would be back to make a pass.  As the ball left my hand, I knew it was good.  Perfect spirals were my goal, and I rarely missed the mark.  The pass would sail through the air and into my own waiting hands only to drop to the backyard grass.  I would stand up defeated, until I noticed the yellow flag on the ground.  Defensive pass interference or roughing the passer would help me survive just one more play; the play that would define my career as the best player ever in the NFL.

While in the swimming pool, I would quickly become a whale at a Sea World show.  I could jump and dart just like a dolphin.  Heck, I was a dolphin.  Nothing could touch me.  I was incredible.

My imagination could go off at any moment creating stories of heroism and amazing feats.  I would laugh, cry, love, hate, and enjoy life with the passion that only a believer can muster.

What has happened to me?  Why am I no longer happy with life the way it is at this present moment?  Why am I afraid of looking foolish to others?  Why do I not let myself dream the unbelievable?  I  must change, and I must change now.  I must find my inner self once again.  Hurry, before that part of me dies.

The Most Creative Person On Earth

J.K. Rowling is the most creative person I can think of in the world right now.  Not that there aren’t others, but she takes the cake.  She was able to create a world of enchantment.  This world helps me to escape from my hum drum life and enter a space where magic is reality.  She created a believable world where characters come to life.  Good fights hard against evil.  There is a strange eeriness about the world she created.  It seems almost like I have been there at one time or another.  It is a place to which I love to escape.  I love to explore.  Her mind creates a world that is superior to the life I live, in many ways.  She seems to be able to escape the real world and live in a made up land of beauty and enchantment.

She wrote what she wanted to write, and because of this she went from living on welfare to being a millionaire in five years.  

My Ideal Writing Spot

The ideal writing spot, for me, would be on a beach, all alone.  I would love to sit in a beach chair and feel the bubbles from the ocean massage the crevasses between my toes.  I could listen to the majestic caw of the seagulls marking their domain, and the gentle surf lulling me into a dreamlike fantasy.  The fresh ocean smell would penetrate my every sense.  From here my mind could wander to an Irish countryside covered in wisps of emerald green grass.  I could visit the cavernous halls of ancient castles and dream of the parties and balls that took place so long ago.  I could, in my mind, plummet to the depths of the ocean before me.  I could imagine a gentle melody to the rhythm of the surf and picture a couple dancing along the beach, their firm bodies covered in sand.  I would see them fall to the ground in anticipation of what was to come.  In short, I could get lost; I could be free.

A Little Bit About Reaping What We Sow

I’m sitting here typing these words on a laptop computer.  I wonder how many others around the globe are doing the same thing.  I imagine the number to be in the millions.  In fact, I’m enjoying this writing session in the library and can hear the tick, tick, tick of other keyboards.  This is a detail we take for granted.  How did this come to be?  How am I able to do such a thing?  In short, the computer has changed the world.

Now we move onto the meat of my point.  When was the very first computer invented?  Before a little research, I may have guessed it was sometime in the 20’s or 30’s.  I would have been right, albeit one century off the mark.  The first mechanical computer was invented in 1822, by a man named Charles Babbage.  Until yesterday, I don’t believe I had even heard his name spoken.  Why?  He never completed his “Deference Engine”.  According to some things I’ve read, it was due to lack of focus and capital.  The government was funding the project, but lost confidence in Babbage’s work.  They didn’t see the value in his invention.  His deference engine wasn’t built until 1991!  It was built to specifications that would have been used in 1822.  It worked.  If funding would have continued for the project, he would have made the first fully functioning mechanical computer; complete with hard copy printouts by the way.

How often do events like this happen in our lives?  We may expend a great deal of energy, thought, time, and even money into our goals without one single result; at least of which we are aware.  We plant seeds we do not sow.  We do not reap the rewards of our labor.  Does this mean our labor is any less important or successful?  I’ll let you decide based on the words I’ve already written; the words I’m writing on this laptop computer.