On Joy – Using creativity to find it in obligations

I believe creativity is one of the most undertapped resources of humanity. More creative genius could and should be applied to all aspects of life, from solving the most pressing global challenges of today to making the humdrum grind of life more tolerable, and even enjoyable.

Depression is crisis. Just as there are myriad factors that precipitate any crisis, there will be myriad factors involved in negotiating the hazards of crisis and coming out of it, and coming out stronger for it.

I believe finding joy in the little things is one part of mitigating the crisis of depression.

And I believe using creativity is the best way to do this.

Let me give you an example.

Yesterday morning I drove five hours from Waltham to Jersey to visit my family for two days. The past few days, I’d gotten very little sleep, and the night before I’d even fallen asleep behind the wheel. There’s nothing quite so jolting as taking the ramp for exit 24 off of I-95 and discovering that your car, independent of your own conscious will, has drifted towards the edge of the road and ramped up the raised barrier on the ground. You hear the emphatic frictive force of rubber gripping concrete, slam the brakes, and correct the wheel. Then you make sure to stay the hell awake. Shit.

The point is, I was exhausted when I arrived. But the first thing I did when I arrived was to pick my brother William up from school and take him to Toys R Us (he’s six).

I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely accurate to frame this task as an obligation. After all, I do derive some pleasure from spending time with my brother, mainly because I can already tell he’s smart and creative and cool, and he has the joie de vivre – he’s a good one.

Still, the toy store isn’t exactly where I want to be when I’m severely sleep deprived and in general have very little tolerance for shopping. I hate the fact that toy stores offer you such a wonderful visually stimulating experience, but all for the sake of transferring money from your pocket to theirs. How tainting.

Anyway, my brother is running around the aisles with no regard for anyone, mind occupied with the fantasy of owning every single toy in the damn store. (he actually told me this)

We all know how delightful it is to be at that stage in the decision making process where you have all the delectable options lain right before you, but still don’t feel the pressure to make an actual decision.

Well, I was starting to get pretty annoyed as my brother ran around, entertaining one option after the next, then dismissing each option in turn to pursue the greener pasture. Pokemon cards. No wait, Bakugan. Oh, oh, how about Atlantis legos.

I made it clear to him how I thought all of those toys were pretty dumb, to which he responded with a classic:

"No, you’re dumb!"

Well, patience wearing thin, I wracked my brain for ways I could get Will to hurry up for reasons that would benefit him. How could I incentivize expediency?

And then creative inspiration struck.

I’d pull the old teacher trick: counting down. Except I’d do it in a wonderfully cheerful tone of voice.

“Will, if you don’t make a choice in 60 seconds, I’m not getting you anything.”

Let the countdown begin. 60, 59, 58, 57…

I watched with glee as I saw sheer terror strike my brother’s face. But because I counted down in a delightful voice, it became more of a game than a mandate. I practically sang the numbers, imparting upon them a playful sense of urgency.

Well, to make a longer story short, I watched his mind work 10X original processing speed, and he finally settled on the Pokemon cards with a few seconds left on the clock.

It was hella entertaining.

Moral of the story: use creativity to find joy in the stuff you have to do.

-David

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