Chapter Eleven. The Vow
In 1964, Donald Rusk Currey accidentally killed the oldest living tree. He didn’t realize it until he started counting its rings—over 4900 of them. Imagine the numb shock and sadness as he discovered what he had done. Was it on ring number 3857 that the truth set in? This was a mistake that couldn’t be undone. The dead tree was lying on the ground. Fortunately, neglecting our own creativity isn’t like taking an axe to a tree. Most people abandon the creativity of their youth because they are afraid—afraid that what they create isn’t very good. And that this might mean they aren’t any good either. But the creative spark can’t die, even when we turn our back on it for years—the creative life force is much more powerful than that. It’s been alive since the beginning of time, and with some effort it can be rekindled.
The Songless Man
The older we get, the more we tie our identity to what we can and cannot do, and the louder the self-critical voices in our heads. Nothing stops the creative flow quicker than a few critical words—which is what happened to my friend Jeff. He was a creative and talented young kid. He was fearless and brave, and like most kids he loved to sing. That was, until his voice started to change. The laughter and ridicule from his peers stung. Embarrassed and hurt, he vowed, “I will never sing in front of another human again.” The singing stopped.
For 42 years, Jeff kept his vow. Then one evening Jeff went to a friend’s for dinner. The gathering took place on a backyard deck perched above a small canyon and surrounded by gigantic trees. The sun had set and the candles glowed. Before we sat down to eat, our host (who is a bit of a free spirit) invited us to sing a traditional Thanksgiving song. She sang first and then we all joined in. We then sat down to homemade soup and fresh-baked bread.
As we broke the bread, Jeff told us that it was the first time he had sung in a very long time. With glassy eyes, he told us about the vow. We quietly listened. What an honor to witness such risk. Jeff’s face glowed. He was free.
Imagine Finally Being Able to Sing
Jeff’s risk made me want to take my own. Creative risks are always contagious in that way. Even now, it makes me want to slam my fist on the table and say, “Enough!” It’s time for me to proclaim my own vow: “I will be who I am, come what may!” We all wrongly hold ourselves back without even really knowing what we’ve done. It’s not until we count the tree rings that we realize how much life has been taken away. Life has never been about singing with perfect pitch. It’s always better to sing off key than to quietly hold ourselves back. Authenticity trumps perfection every time. Perfection may impress, but rarely does it truly shine.
Exercise
STEP 1
Life can knock us over. People can be cruel and mean. And so we all have secret vows that we made. Some positive: “I will be smarter next time.” And others negative: “I will never try that again.” Negative vows siphon and steal our creative juice. Take a moment to think about your own life and vows. If you unearth a negative vow, talk it over with a friend so that it stops holding you back.
STEP 2
Creative risks keep you nimble, flexible, and young. Take a risk this week just for the sake of being alive. Rekindle your creativity by singing a song, writing a poem, painting a picture, or doing something completely off the wall. Be bold and have fun. Embrace the wild that races through your heart. Do something pure and true without posting it on social media or sharing it with friends. Do something without any strings attached.