There are a couple of young men that have a shop, near mine, that turn pens. I am always pleased to provide them any scraps of exotic or nicely spalted woods for their projects. The other day their wifes and some of their friends were visiting them at their shop and came down to mine for introduction. I thought a nice jesture. While observing the new projects I'm presently engaged on, oweing and aweing, they begin to ask questions. Like: do you ever sleep? How do you think these things up?
How in the world did you come up with the idea? Your mind must never stop. I gather there are many assumptions made
by many people that my creativity is a continual,
flowing force. That my mind is never
blank. That I never experience boredom
or times of tedium (new word
for me) regarding my various crafts. That I must experience an effortless flow of creative energy each and every day. That there is probably little need for
discipline, repetition, or structure in my “creating world.” They don't know me well at all.
Not me! I struggle
with my creativity! I have to practice,
practice, practice. I, sometimes, make a dozen experimental designs before making one item, worthy of exhibition. Sometimes, days of routine; always learning new and better techneques. While ruminating on the consternation of having dozens of possiblities at one time, it was suggested, I take a look at Clint
Brown’s, Artist to Artist: Advice from Artists Past & Present. He writes that painter, Wayne
Thiebaud, once said that “an artist
has to train his responses more than other people do. He has to be as disciplined as a
mathematician. Disciple is not a
restriction but an aid to freedom.” I
learned that; for me, rather than being opposed to creativity, discipline provides a conduit through which creative engagement grows and for the most part, develops unhindered.
Now, it’s not so difficult to understand why many would
falsely believe that not only my, but most other's, creativity is by nature
undisciplined when many assume that structure and routine are signs of a lack
of creativity, or worse are signs of boredom. Boring routine appears to be
antithetical to the creative life. But
as author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, who wrote
in a notebook entry, cited in Kathleen
Norris’s, Acedia & Me; "boredom is
not an ‘end product’ but an important and necessary ‘stage in life and art,’
acting like a filter that allows ‘the clear product to emerge.’”
Well, Bill, are you aware that assumptions about growth
and creativity in the spiritual life often parallel those assumptions about your
creative processes. Haven’t you, at times, expected unbounded growth,
or instant results? Haven’t you, you at one time or another, expected robust
faith and little doubt? Haven’t you
expected the constant flow of “good feelings” surging through you?. Wasn’t it
not long ago that you thought something wasn’t just right with the novel rhythm
of worship, at the church you attended? Out of your discipline/routine. Right? Doesn’t,
perhaps this sentiment belie a hidden disdain for the repetitive nature of
discipline and routine? Like the stereotypes about creativity, I have, myself,
have falsely believed that discipline is antithetical to the art of spiritual
growth and freedom.
As a result, I can see now how I can chase after the wind of
emotional experience or spiritual “high” constantly seeking the “next thing”
that will move me or make me feel good. Ritual, discipline, commitment, and
structure seem impediments to growth, rather than the soil in which spiritual
growth is nourished and fed. It is easier to assume that spiritual
transformation is like osmosis, a process over which I have little control or
responsibility.
Yet just as I expect that practice, routine, and repetition
are necessary disciplines of my creative life, so too should I apply to my growth
in faith. For spiritual practice sharpens insight and enhances spiritual
creativity. Routine and discipline are the nutrients necessary for the
spiritual life to flourish and grow.
Reading the life of Christ
in the four Gospels, I think
Jesus makes this connection
between growth and discipline. In the gospel of John
he exhorts his followers to “abide” in him—literally to rest and to take
nourishment from the life Jesus offers. But as I abide in 15:9-11, I am
told: “Just
as the Father has loved me, I have also loved you; abide in my love. If you
keep my commandments, you will abide in my love; just as I have kept my
Father’s commandments, and abide in his love.
These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that
your joy may be made full.” Jesus
insists that joy flows from a life of discipline and obedience that
includes keeping His commands. They are not separate endeavors,
but intimately enjoined to produce abundant life.
Father, God, I find it ironic that
I have not most of my life associated joy with discipline. It didn’t used to be
so much but, now, in my later years daily living feels more like monotonous
routine. But I know joy is not a feeling, nor is it dependent on the whims of my
persona. Thank You for speaking to me so plainly that genuine joy
is the result of a life lived in the rhythm of rest, routine, and discipline. You
know well my confession: that precisely following Jesus has often been
both tedious and difficult during these past few years. Thank You
for showing me that disciplined obedience is not a blockade to being full of joy,
but rather a doorway that opens into Your very presence. Encountering
the Great
I Am, Who only produces in art and discipline something beautiful
that will remain as long as I live on this earth. Amen
