Sometimes I wonder, at what point does the human mind becomes creative?
Some would argue that "Creativity is a gift", I think that argument is completele non-sense. Or at least saying that its a 'gift' is just a mere expression of appreciation. Like saying 'that guy is exteremely talented does not mean they are born with talents, rahter they have carved something so profoundly 'standing out' to the point that its apparent that they have hone the skill that may took lifetime to carry, thus 'talent' or 'different breed'.
I would think that creativity that is a lot more like 'escapism', the brain resting state when it's idle yet active, not thinking out of the mundanity of life rather, somewhat of a day-dream process, where emotions flow and ideas seem to emerge. Through strong sense of vivid imaginations and yet sometimes 'accidental' in nature. Something that is unplanned yet it shows, the creative mind consumes the brain that the self is immersed to his own imagination, escaping out of reality and the obligations from reality for a while.
I would like to quote later perhaps, scientific article that supports this motion that the default mode network is somewhat active when the brain is idle, for example when taking a shower, when there isn't much things that requires intense conscious attention and the mind can opt out to day dream.
The ability to mentally project the self is undeniably a profound ability in evolutionary behavior, the ability to make plans and inevitably how the self can move itself through time and have emotions through it. Backwards to feel memories of love and forward to feel memories of expected love. Though, the 'realism' of the environments of the mental projections can be carried away freely by the self, it could imagine thrill, sadness, agony, adventure, or the height of it all, plot twist that even the self is amazed by his own narrative.
Escapism is one of the most fun thing to do in life, I would argue. It cost literally nothing (money-wise), yet it has become more scarce overtime, vivid-daydream that the self can be entertained freely has been hindered by obligation-induced stress, this is what I would argue to be the blocker of these creative thoughts, or rather the feeling of hate derived from the lack of satisfaction and the drive to pursue ideals that can sometimes induce stress.
But isn't there's a paradox between hope and stress? A paradox that somehow best describe to determine a baseline? I don't like the 'balance' idea to be honest, almost as if, potraying 'things' inevitably requires sacrifice, I do believe, the reasons why outliers exist because they don't see work as sacrifice to justify the means, rather they are the rare people who managed to love work as much as work will probably consume half of our life, lack of satisfaction from work simply implies 'killing half of the self'.
This is why I'm deeply intense with the whole 'meaning' thing. Just like a trader who wants to invest on an asset, it doesn't make sense for him to make a decision not knowing the long time horizon, it can't just make a decision only accounting the small time frame like days or weeks, well he sometimes can and be lucky, but he will struggle when to exit or until when he should hold the moving trade or cut his losses, he does not have any conviction on his decisions and it brings him uneasiness coming out of uncertainties. He second guesses himself from time to time and creates unnecesarry stress. Has he never been made aware that he only needs to know what are the long term horizons so he can have more conviction on the decision that he has made in the past that is still rippling until now?
I must confess that I didn't make the best decisions, there are things I regret and things that I wished turned out otherwise. The only way to cope is to justify whatever has happened, at least I could assure myself, has made me a better person, through all mistakes and regret, that's the only thing I can trust.
Is it really true that people like Steve Jobs is just a one-time thing? A once in a century 'gifted' person. What makes 'great people, great?
Why am I obsessed with the whole 'saint-figure' of humanity type thing? Why do I desire greatness? I just think it's just a shame if I live and die without doing something great, I can't justify my existence as equally low as of the dirt.
Or maybe it's just my pleasure principle, I was once very happy when I know what I was doing is of something great and I simply crave it again.
With a mix of drive theory (humans are driven to escape unpleasant feelings), that drove me away from the feelings of emptiness and state of perceived worthlessness.
Sometimes I'm intrigued by reading stories of people in the past, what people were capable of, saying things and things they do out of 'love' to the point that I conclude:
'People do crazy things out of love, but no one is crazy.'
But I'm not talking only specifically about love towards another individual, rather love as a whole, more specifically, love towards living, by any reasons, every day of it, even including work.
I think that's what makes great people do great things, or at least if we were divide the majority of their days living, loving days far outweight the days of sadness, at a massive margin.
In which I don't believe that such phenomena can occur when the self is doing things aimlessly everytime in the present, they must have an essence of love embedded in each and every day life out of their own ability to create intense meaning in their life, through which comes great Eudaemonia.
In the previous article I described on how we can decipher suffering and one's decision to leave life out of perspective that life is not worth (or no longer worth) the trouble. In which I argue that 'Yea some people can see 'things' and 'occurences' in life and frame it as 'troubles to solve' sometimes, but what if out of the very essence of joy, it does not come out of seeing things as a trouble, rather things to love and look forward to, the whole mechanics of pain avoidance and pleasure seeking to ultimately leads to love living.
Escapism and imaginative state of happiness just basically infers that each to its own has its own utopia on live, in which that is worth pursuing. This utopia however, affects the current vibe on the self, somehow. The more vivid the utopia, the more often the self think about 'actionable steps' towards that utopia, in which the self unconsciously carve itself the path to its own utopia, this is what i call 'the good utopia' in which it's determined by the self and measured its 'realness' by the self. It's not an intoxicating and choking utopia, rather the utopia that gives bliss and reminder that 'the self' hasn't even begun to peak.
I always find it funny and comically to know the fact, our imaginative states that lives in our mind can affect our emotions, this is to be given an example of the 'badness' of overthinking. I just think that 'overthinking' is bad if it gives you 'decision fatigue', but as long as it's as harmless as daydreaming that makes us simple, I see no harm in that, I even encourage it if one still can.
Life is really is just a soap opera, in where you were pushed to the stage and play pretend that you know what is happening on the stage, you kept walking and observing the act of others and try to make sense of the whole situation. Initially you don't know what's going on but the more you observe, the more it starts to make sense, but 'things making sense' is not always promised rather it's solely out of your choice to try to make sense of it and it's up to your interpretation of the whole already ongoing soap opera.
"What's the point for all of these? How long have this show been going?" You asked the other crewmates but they never answer as you began to doubt that they know the answer or they were thrown in involuntarily like you were.
Scripts were handed and you were asked and asked to play acts over acts. You are left with a decision, to just do the act or see the plot on how the story unravels and how you were brought into the opera because of 'something', or maybe you were nothing at all, just happen to be brought down to the stage? No one can answer your questions, but there are still acts to be filled and you can either enjoy your performance and put a half-ass performance. No one will judge you if you're doing bad, maybe. Either way, the show must go on.
The Self comes to play act over act and began to realize that 'Huh, maybe I really am was born for this role.' The self seeks the director of the play but there isn't seem to be any director, it's just a show organized by the collection of selves. 'Uh, I come to say thank you for whoever organizing the show!' The self shouted. Out of a collective voices of the selves it replies back, 'The show wouldn't be as great as how you think it is without you. As your prescence on the show has already lasted a ripple effect to those who have played the acts with you.'
The greatness of you and the grand of a show called life is what you make out of it. The people that you made happy and the people that will never forget you. Your role and your radiating kindness that you choose to do is what marks the flag that your role is irreplacable and crucial to the show.
'Where's the meaning to the show?' The Self asked.
'There's no meaning to the show.' The voice replied.
Then the voice elaborated, 'The script that were handed out to you, were written by other people that initially expects or they tried to help you make sense of the Show, no longer than now, as you understand the show, you come to write your own script with your own roles and how you maybe invite other people to play the acts that you've written with you. Above all, the meaning of it all, is to enjoy the soap opera that you have written and you yourself play in.'
'You don't get to play in the opera forever but the soap opera itself, it lasts forever. Maybe you come to play and inspire other selves, or maybe you don't, at least you know that you were happy doing the show guided by the scripts that were given to you by the previous selves that wanted to help you.'
'Then how do I become a better writer for myself' The Self asked.
'You imagine.'