Creativity and Discomfort
I recently saw a clip of John Cleese’s talk on Creativity in Management. I couldn’t get this clip out of my mind, because it’s on something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately:
What happens when we deliberately push ourselves out of our comfort zones?
Actually, it’s something I’ve been doing, deliberately or not, since the first time I moved to a new country. I’ve noticed that especially when I move to a new environment with no job in place, into an untethered space, that I get a surge of creativity.
In which direction should I go?
Cleese says that’s because creativity is born from discomfort, or even anxiety, and that if we lean into that discomfort rather than trying to make it go away as quickly as possible, if we give that discomfort space, we can come up with our most creative solutions.
Huh. So, you mean, if we deliberately take a bunch of creatives, give them a whole bunch of unexpected space and time on there hands, like say, unemployment due to a pandemic, they can come up with unprecedented creative solutions that they, and other creatives around them have never thought of before, and then the drive to make those creative solutions come to life?
Time and space
Why yes, that is exactly what I mean!
Because besides discomfort, space and time, Cleese stresses one must also have the confidence to assume one can accomplish the discovered solution in order to bring it to fruition.
After a move, once the dust settles, I often find myself with a rather uncomfortable window of space and time while I try to figure out where I will apply for a job, how I will invest myself in learning the language, and what communities I want to absorb myself into.
Unpacking
I’ve learned to sit with this discomfort and ask myself: what do I really want my life to look like a year from now? What do I want more of: more time, more performances, more teaching, more money, more leadership, more connection…
And the confidence of having done it in the past and knowing I can do it again is definitely a huge source of encouragement.
A year ago, I made a crazy choice to take a break from a job that I’ve taken on in Ottawa every time we’ve lived here since the moment I graduated from my master’s degree. This was pretty scary. I suddenly created a whole lot of time in my schedule to make space for other professional endeavors that I did not yet have.
But I was confident, based on the proof of my past experiences, that if I pushed on that bubble of discomfort towards where possibility lived, and that if I came from my WHY (my core essence or values) and didn’t succumb to my survival mechanisms (keeping things safe and making quick decisions that would rapidly ease the discomfort), that I would achieve a higher level of creativity and reap its rewards. And it was true. I have had an incredibly fulfilling year.
There is one more key ingredient that Cleese addresses in his talk, and this should come as absolutely no surprise, given his high level of success in sketch comedy.
HUMOUR
Talk about finding humour in discomfort - John Cleese’s famous character “The Black Knight” goes on fighting!
When we add humour, we have the recipe for surviving any change – whether deliberate or unexpected.
One of the most uncomfortable situations I’ve ever been in was moving to Kazakhstan with my 5-week-old baby. I had gained and lost so much in the time leading up to that move that it is safe to say I didn’t know who I was anymore.
But I did have space.
I had time
And thank God, I had a heck lot of humour.
It was really tricky living in isolation - literally in Siberia with an infant and no social network. You may recall that my piano Bernadette was lost at sea for 6 months during this posting. This meant that I was missing the main tool that defined me as a pianist. Our car (who did not have a name, for those of you keeping track) was also lost in that shipment. And so there I was stuck at home with no way to get out except by my own two feet. Hardly any sidewalks for strollers, those that were there were booby trapped with missing manhole covers and with decreased visibility in winter time, using the sidewalk was absolutely out of the question. So, I’d go for a daily walk by strapping my baby to my body with 8 yards of cloth and out we’d venture through the fields in minus 30 degree weather, past the pyramid towards the building called the dog bowl on our daily walks, looking for wild arctic hare.
The pyramid, early winter
From these early adventures, my newsletter was born. The newsletter allowed me to vent my frustrations in a funny way, twisting what was way too many lemons into bucket loads of material. It also gave me an excuse to connect with my friends and family back home. I think that if I hadn’t had this outlet for humour, I would have turned irretrievably into an angry, shrivelled shell. (People have been asking me about these bulletins lately, so watch this space!)
Here is John Cleese’s full video on Creativity in Management so you can watch it for yourself. There’s so much to take from his short talk, even if all you walk away with is some more light bulb jokes for your arsenal.
And the next time you notice you’re in an extreme state of discomfort – ask yourself: is it possible to sit with this discomfort? What might happen if I don’t take the easy way out? It could be the beginning of an amazing new way of looking at things!
