The most remarkable thing about humans is our ability to find meaning in places where there is none.
Whether finding Jesus on a stale sandwich, searching for our fates in the distant lights of the stars, or creating complex interior monologues for our non-verbal pets, being human means discovering stories.
There’s a school of thought that we should be rational and move on from our superstitions. These often well-meaning, but often also completely miserable, rationalists want us to see the world for how it really is. Of course, there is mounting evidence that the observable universe is a hologram, so I don’t know why rationalists think they know what reality is.
Rationalists have given us economics, a system of flawed predictive models that often fail because of the presumption that humans make rational, self-interested decisions.
Being hyper-rational cuts against our humanity. It’s the kind of thing that promotes artificial intelligence. A fellow poet and collaborator recently sent me a link to a story about a study where people preferred AI poetry to human-made poetry.
My first indelicate reaction to this was to exclaim out loud to only my phone, “Why the f*ck would he send me this?”
I did read the story and I noticed something. People only preferred AI poetry when they didn’t know it was written by a soulless, climate-killing machine.
Poetry is more than an arrangement of words and phrases. It’s a human confession. Poetry is seeing Jesus on the toasted bread, hearing the voice of your dead mother in the wind, and longing for a home you’ve never been to.
AI cannot write poetry—it can only arrange words in a way that is statistically-likely to be pleasing to read.
If you are creative, or want to be creative, you need to forget being rational. There is nothing rational about making art or doing any craft. If you want to be rational, be an economist and prepare for a life of dismal gloom.
If you want joy, be more human, be irrational — be an absurdist. Absurdists see the world as lacking any inherent meaning and choose instead to create meaning.
All art is in some way absurd. It is a type of sign-seeking. If you want to be creative, be more human. Look for the stories that aren’t there and discover meaning in the meaningless.
Art is about truth — not scientific truth — but human truth. We need scientific truth in this world. I want vaccines, clean cars, and to avoid the asteroid named 2024 YR4 that has a 3% chance of striking the Earth and causing immense death and destruction.
But we also need whimsy, silliness, and joy. We need the truth that the death of a loved one stings forever and that the sky is an oracle for our souls.
Being creative is not about making money — again, if that is your primary goal, someone is always hiring economists. Creativity is about being our most human selves. It’s about creating meaning and sharing our discoveries with others.
Creativity is telling stories by firelight when the sounds of the wolves in the wilderness drive sleep from our minds. It is noticing the patterns of nature and finding comfort in small joys and beauties in a society that is often dark and unjust.
There are two obstacles that stop most people from being more creative. One is imposter syndrome, and the other is not knowing where to start.
Imposter syndrome is nothing more than your fear of being seen, of not being seen, of failing, or of succeeding. It’s a normal human reaction to staring into the void and trying to explain what you’ve seen to strangers.
Not knowing where to start with creativity is the result of the normal human desire to know the end from the beginning — but that’s not how stories work.
The solution to both issues is to lean into your humanity. You cannot think your way out of a creative problem. You can only create your way out.
If you want to be more creative, look for signs. Hear voices in the middle of the night, get messages from the hoots of owls, and listen to ideas in the tick-tock of the clock or the babbling of the bath water. See your destiny in the stars, find faces in the clouds, and take dictation from the muses hidden in the steam coming off your morning latte.
The true beauty of creativity is that you are your own boss. Nobody has to give you permission to make something. You don’t need a commission or credentials to create. It doesn’t have to be your job, and what you make doesn’t even need to be any good.
The only requirement for being creative is to be human — your most human self.
Are you up to the task?
If you’ve been waiting for a sign that now is the time to make something, consider this your sign.
Go and make something right now!
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Be the weird you want to see in the world!
Cheers,
I love every single thing about this piece, Jason, but there is something extra delightful about depicting truth as a squirrel. Thank you, and I hope you won't mind me reading this to my college boy when I talk to him tomorrow.
What an inspiring essay! It has left me with a big smile on my face.