Engaging in Creation

Recently I have been musing on processes and patterns, specifically what I am coming to call the “process of creation”. It’s still an elusive concept, but perhaps attempting to put words to it will allow it to coalesce. 

The creation I am referring to has less to do with the “Creation” and more to do with the everyday abilities of everyday people. The opportunity that we as humans have to engage with materials and life and create something is truly magnificent to me. Virtually every living thing engages in the process of creation, chickadees create nests and birdsong, beavers build dams, plants create oxygen, and perhaps the most universal facet of creation is the miraculous ability for life to create life, a process of creation that exists within the smallest bacteria to the largest of organisms. 

That being said, creation will hold different meanings for everyone, maybe you are a maker and create physical objects, or you create relationships, songs, poems, maybe you create a good life for your houseplants (something I am inexplicably bad at), or create a family. Maybe you dream, or help create other peoples’ dreams. No matter what you create, the process harbors a deeply rooted vein of approachability because it is a concept so thoroughly grounding our existence and experiences. Like delicate mycelium, creation is what seems to connect us to each other and the world. Perhaps the more we engage with the processes of creation the more we feel alive, part of something greater.

I am beginning to see that maybe by our craft as makers, wanderers, supporters of artists and dreamers, we hope to engage with a process so much larger than ourselves that we become a part of it.  We don’t merely create to achieve a desired product or outcome, but to participate in the process of living and creating that is already ongoing. 

When making a bowl, the process of creation does not begin with selecting a piece of wood, or buying a blank, but in the growing of a tree. One could reasonably argue that the process began eons earlier as the soils began to build and life decomposed to create nutrients that would eventually become the tree. I am coming to see that I am not beginning or finishing “creation” when I set out to make a bowl but rather simply participating in an ongoing process, for that bowl will once again return to the soil. 

The sense of connection and rootedness that I experience is directly related to the degree I choose to engage with the process of creation. My decision to participate and to what degree is completely my own. Continuing with the bowl example, I could simply choose to buy a bowl (more on that later), or I could buy tools to make the bowl. I could also make my own tools. I could use an electric lathe, or I could make a foot powered lathe. I could buy my wood or source it myself. I could use jigs to carve the bowl or do it by feel. Throughout the entire process I am faced with decisions. I have found my answers to these decisions ultimately decides how much I connect to the process of creation. The more I distance myself from the process, the less connected I feel to the natural rhythm of the world around me. 

Now I am not saying that we should do away with all power tools, or that we all need to stop buying things from other people and become completely independent (after all I am only able to do what I do because people support and buy my craft), but I am saying that our intentional decisions allow us to participate in a far larger process if we want to. 

Each of our circumstances are so unique that I am in no position to say what decision is best for you, but you can. We may not find ourselves in a position to engage with the process as much as we would like, our skills may be lacking, our time may be limited, and sometimes that’s just how life is, but our decisions are still our own. If we decide to buy something, then perhaps we choose to buy from someone who has engaged in the process of creation themselves, and consequently what we buy allows us to participate as well. The wooden bowls I turn on my pole lathe in my little shop in Northern Utah do not separate from the process after they are packaged up and shipped off. The  gentle tool marks on each one speak of a process that involved a creator, the wood grain speaks of a life once lived. Each time we use that bowl, we participate in the process of creation. The bowl becomes more beautiful through use, and we have the opportunity to witness and foster that beauty.

Of course, this isn’t about bowls or even handcraft, but a principle. So whether we are creating cups or communities, forests or food, we can choose to engage in the process. People say that “life is what you make it” but I think it's not as much about “what” you choose to make, as much as “how”. Intentionally engaging with the process of creation as best I can is what makes an abundant life for me.

These musings I feel are just the tip of a much larger iceberg that I am coming to appreciate more and more. Perhaps I’ll write more later once my thoughts solidify a bit.  Who knows, perhaps like me, as you look at your life and practices you will come to see the process of creation in the details of your everyday joys. Or maybe not, I’d love to hear your thoughts.