Gather and Create
Our family recently joined a few other friends and their children for a fall hike in the woods. The canopy of trees laced the sky above with orange, yellow, and red. The vibrancy of the colors almost seemed too beautiful to usher us into the season of winter. The morning began with rain, and by the end of the hike, the sky was the color of the sea with clouds that only a master artist and his paintbrush could stroke with such intention.
Our children took their time collecting leaves, sticks, and acorns. Everything seemed to beckon them—touch, hold, keep, savor. But talking to my friend, I realized we were grappling with our own weariness with the world. How could this place be so safe and wonderful against a backdrop of tragedy? What’s more is that the tragedy is so often disclosed to us in information bits and data chunks through the information culture—the same one that limits our economy of attention. All this information can often show us the limitations in our capacity to receive, understand, and derive meaning.
Back at home, I noticed something though. My daughter carefully emptied all her pockets and ensured that each of her treasures were carefully arranged in her nature box. She wanted the acorns in one place, and the leaves in another. Her rocks also had their own corner—the glittering ones separated from the dull. Each piece was organized in such a way that she could go back and see what she had found, and now it had meaning. They were small remembrances that went beyond a collection. She kept the beauty she gathered and made something new.
The creative life also privileges memories. We look to our memories for understanding, inspiration, and joy. Creating is a form of curating when it looks at what we see and pockets those memories for something that will transform our current understanding.
A few days later, I came across the advice, which seventeen-year-old C. S. Lewis gave to his longtime friend Arthur Greeves: “Whenever you are fed up with life, start writing: ink is the great cure for all human ills, as I have found long ago.” The idea here is that writing, for Lewis, creates meaning. Information and facts can’t be consumed without a posture to receive them in a way that conforms to our humanity. We can either “take in” or “consume” information, or we can craft meaning through writing and creating.
Watching children collect things, you’ll notice their perception and judgment. They don’t take everything but gather what matters. Creating hones our perception and judgment too, helping us to pursue the important and recognize what weakens our craft by dulling our senses. Become a curator again and remember what matters.
To ponder
What is your form of creating? Do you see any connections between gathering, remembering, and creativity? How are your memories tied to what you create?
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