Being Creative Keeps Us Young!

How Creativity Keeps Us Ageless
Four tips to unleash your creative energies and counter the effects of aging in the process.
BY: Stephen Ruppenthal

Have you ever thought that giving yourself the time to do that sketch or write that short story might help you stay younger? Studies have shown there is indeed a vital relationship between creative expression and healthy aging. When we draw and paint, we delve deep into the springs of vitality, increasing our sense of self-worth, determination, and achievement. But the University of Kentucky’s Prof. David Snowdon, who tracked the health of 678 Catholic nuns over 70 in his important Alzheimer’s study, showed us much more: he was once given a ceramic sculpture by one of the nuns, Sister Esther Boor, who had taken up ceramics at age 97. When asked by Snowdon to join his project, Sister Esther had originally told him, “I’m too busy with my art to take part in a study of old people." She was not aware of growing older, and she passed away at 107.

All of us know that, when deep in the process creating a short story, a painting, a new business, or an invention, time seems to stand still. Creating something totally new freshens our whole system and frees us from limitations that otherwise can hold us down and drain us of life. Here are four ways you can counter the effects of aging by unleashing your creative energies, testing your own powers of making new things, and breaking through to new solutions:

1. Just start, don’t think. If you feel too emotionally drained or just plain blocked, get a pad of paper and pour out all the nagging resentments, fears, and worries that block you from starting an important project. Acknowledging feelings can enable us to move past them and really get started. This, of course, also means dedicating ample time and space for the creative work. A friend of mine had trouble realizing his gifts until he freed enough time to tinker in his garage. Now he exhibits dozens of motor scooters, cars, and even a bread truck, all artistically converted to brightly painted electric-powered vehicles. I ask him how old he is and he says it’s tough to keep track.

2. Try making your own environment a work of art. And while you’re at it, have some fun! We all start with a blank slate in our living space. Whether you reorganize your office, redecorate your home, enrich your relationships, or beautify your yard, let these efforts mirror the best and most beautiful in you. My wife and I purchased five very barren acres some years back and have since spent every spare minute we have planting flowering herbs, luscious berries, stately fruit trees, and hardy landscaping bushes. In comparatively little time, the parched landscape has given way to lush green views in all directions. And inside, a neglected, ramshackle farmhouse now boasts rich French country colors on all its walls. Don’t be afraid to test your creativity in playful ways, even if you muff it and have to start over. The playful energy all of us have not far beneath the surface helps us feel young and free, regardless of our body’s age.

3. Follow your highest hopes and dreams. Strangely enough, researchers who investigate longevity are finding old age can be a peak period for more, not less, creativity. "We always think of winding down in old age," says Judith Salerno, Britain’s deputy director for the National Institute on Aging. "We need to begin thinking about late life as an opportunity for people to explore." So in the years that used to be considered old age and dotage, now we see experience as an incalculably rich resource. Don’t settle for a shut-down life where the resources of youth are just vain memories; tap your rich experience, whether through art, invention, social service, or transformation of the environment. A higher number of age will only mean you can realize your highest potential and develop talents you never knew you possessed.

4. Dedicate time each day to creative projects, and have faith in yourself. Whether your gift is to be a writer, painter, actor, or a healer of personal relationships, you need to devote time to it every day. “But I can’t do it,” people say, “it’s too big!” So just try breaking your larger projects into smaller, more manageable pieces. As St. Francis says, “Small beginnings, greater ends.” Don’t try to write the whole novel or you will clam up and get scared. Maybe today you will just write one paragraph or carve one lock of hair onto your sculpture, but that will unlock your greater resources. Over time, something will just lift you up. A power coming from deep within you will fill in the blanks, making the universe—and yourself—richer, more beautiful, and full of the wealth of creative life that has no age.

Reprinted from DirectAwakenings with permission.

Dr. Stephen Ruppenthal is the author of 'The Path of Direct Awakening: Passages for Meditation' and 'Keats and Zen', among other books. He is an international workshop leader in passage meditation and specializes in end-of-life spiritual care.

Thoughts on Teaching

Thoughts on teaching
October 31, 2008

Dear Sherrie,
In the incredibly dark and grubby Odessa airport, waiting for the short flight to Kiev, I find a crumpled copy of the English-language Herald Tribune. While most of its words appear well used by previous travellers, there's an interview with 76-year-old American author John Updike. "I've tried to avoid teaching," he says, "which for all its charm takes a lot of your energy and makes you doubt yourself."Charming, for sure, I'm thinking.
There's that terrific feeling you get when you see the lights come on in students' eyes. Watching improvement in others has to be one of the great highs. For those of us who love to spin knowledge, preparation itself opens up exciting new directions. Further, during delivery, the teacher finds out what she thinks by hearing what she has to say.
But teaching takes a special kind of energy. Lots of it. Frankly, I don't know how they find it. Arriving home from the schoolroom, many of my art-teacher friends have to put their feet up and debrief with something like Vodka or the decorating of eggs. Exhausted, many have trouble getting to the studio. Like those undersized tubes of Ukrainian toothpaste, they are used up.
Updike's third point--teaching makes you doubt yourself--is worrisome and worthy of consideration. Within words themselves there resides the potential disarmament of creative action. Art is a doing thing. It favours self-discovery and process while eschewing words and theory. It thrives on silence and contemplation. Some artists report that creativity requires a sort of blind energy and focused ignorance. The seeds of doubt may be sown by knowing too much. If this is the "teacher-mind," and I'm not sure it is, the antidote may be enforced mutism. This may seem harsh in a free country, but with the mouth closed, stuff comes out of the brush--or pen.
Even those who teach by showing and doing expend resources and might just be subconsciously cheapening their passion. John Updike saw teaching from both sides. He understood what he had to do to become a creator. "Four years was enough of Harvard," he said. "I still had a lot to learn, but had been given the liberating notion that now I could teach myself." Best regards,RobertPS: "The artist brings something into the world that didn't exist before, and he does it without destroying something else. A kind of refutation of the conservation of matter." (John Updike)

Esoterica: Or you might be one of those teachers who believes that the more you give the more you get. By sharing, guiding and watching, you become party to personal growth. For this exalted state, words and explanations need to be seen as expendable. By giving to others in a playful way we may leave ourselves more intact, and squeeze more out of ourselves. May we never run out of Squibb.

I posted this because I could totally relate. in fifteen years of teaching, I wrote about ten pages of my novel even though it had been in my head the entire time. In fact, any thinking about creating and any creative work itself WAS done in the summer when I had time to let my mind wander.
I don't regret the time I spent teaching though. It taught me how to focus; it taught me a lot about human nature and I definitely learned how to be more organized. One can not survive the teaching profession without a great deal of organization skills.
I also was reminded daily to never give up my passion and optimism. That's probably why I keep subbing. It allows me to have all the benefits of being around young people without all the responsiblity: grading, lesson planning, etc.
I still believe the old adage "Everything happens for a reason." I was meant to teach, but any teaching I do in the future has to be limited because I also was meant to write.

WHAT WERE YOU MEANT TO DO?