Before you read on, dear reader, which I very much hope you will, I have a confession to make. I count myself among the group of people who cannot call themselves fans of "The Little Prince". Don't take offense at me, though. Just because I don't like the book doesn't mean I'm dismissing it. On the contrary. I think Antoine de Saint-Exupéry did a great job. He wrote a book which has been loved by millions and which, by the way, touches on a subject which is particularly close to my heart.
The philosophical tale that is "The Little Prince" talks about many important things, but one thing has always stood out. Creativity. Surprised? You were probably expecting friendship. Love. A few other things, but not creativity. Meanwhile, for me, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry willy-nilly pointed out that our creativity is strongly tied to childhood.
What is genius? The ability to become a little boy at a moment's notice. - J.M. Barrie
The quote from the author of "Peter Pan" appears not by accident, because Barrie very rightly pointed out that genius has a lot in common with a child. As a child, a genius does not see barriers. He doesn't think about them, and when he does, it's in order to transcend them. It works. He confirms something that to others seems completely unnecessary. He checks. He tries. He dreams, but also tries to realize his dreams. Charles Baudelaire was of a similar opinion. The author of "The Flowers of Evil" claimed:
Genius is nothing less than a childhood regained on demand. A childhood equipped with all the qualities needed for self-expression and an analytical mind that allows him to organize the sum of experiences, involuntarily accumulated.
Barrie and Baudelaire pointed out that genius and the creativity that comes with it are inextricably linked with remaining a child. What they meant, however, was not childishness but the fact of shedding the limitations that come with age.
Boundaries
Growing up, we begin to pay attention only to the things we deem important. We become part of a mindless pursuit of not really knowing what. This is actually reflected in "The Little Prince". After all, the adults in the story are the ones who behave irrationally. They rush ahead even when they obviously don't know what the chase is anymore. Our senses are dulled, we lose sight of the little things that lit us up when we were children.
Meanwhile, being a child, we are extremely conscious individuals. We absorb information, the world, at a speed we will never be able to achieve again. We process it, marvel at what we see rather than dully passing it by. We ask simple questions about complex things. We dig. We inquire. We discover. Everything is new, everything can surprise us. With time, this interest flies away. Maybe not so many escapes, but becomes directed. It's only channeled into things that are important. Of course, this is understandable. We suffer from a shortage of time. Suddenly we are responsible for others. We work, we worry about more and more things.
I get lost in the darkness of memories and end up being wrong about very fundamental things. - "The Little Prince"
We begin to believe that this is the way it has to be. I've seen that, I've done that, I'm not interested in that, I don't have the strength, I don't want to, I don't feel the need. This is stupid, I don't want to think about it, and this, my son, there's no point in trying, because you'll hurt yourself. Time passes when our main task was to learn, assimilate, explore. The already mentioned boundaries appear, which, as the years go by, move away from us. Crossing them becomes more and more difficult. Schemes become more and more comfortable.
What if you were to become a child?
In 2010, a study was conducted to see if, in leaving childhood behind, we leave a significant portion of our creativity somewhere. Well, not just creativity, but what pushes us to try to approach solving ideas differently. An experiment that a group of psychologists conducted was very simple. Students were gathered and asked to write a short text on a given topic. The invited subjects were divided into two groups.
- The first group was asked to write a text on the topic: Imagine that a class at school was canceled. What would you do, think and feel?
- The second group was to write a text on exactly the same topic. However, they received additional instruction. It was a fact that this cancellation of classes took place when you are seven years old.
The participants were given five minutes to describe their reactions to the fact that there would be no class. After writing, they were asked to complete a creativity test, the Torrance Tests of Creative Thinking. In a shortened version and designed for adults. You're probably wondering what the results were?
These, on the one hand, were what the researchers expected. It turned out that the group that received information about being seven years old showed much more originality than the first group, the one that did not have to look for itself years ago when answering the question. This was confirmed both by the answers themselves and by the results of the TTCT test. Those "forced" to reach for their inner child proved to be more creative. In a way confirms the quoted words of Barrie or Baudelaire.
All adults were once children, but few remember that. - "The Little Prince"
Anyway, the mentioned studies are not the only ones that have been conducted. The results were very often similar. The most interesting thing, however, is that the key to our creativity is not our age, but our attitude. We can have children who are very mature for their age, and who in terms of originality will "lose" to their "less serious" peers. Attitude, fortunately, is not given to us permanently. We can force ourselves to stimulate our curiosity and nurture our inner child. As long as we want to, because, after all, nowhere is it said that it is necessary.
The art of spotting an elephant where others see a hat
I catch myself more and more often silencing the little boy inside me. I'm a father, I work, I'm supposed to lead by example. I'm supposed to be serious. I rationalize my world. I arrange things. The question is, do we always need this? I don't know. When I was a kid I thought that as I grew up I would have fewer doubts. But it's the opposite. The older I get, the more doubts I have. I am not sure about anything anymore. And creativity? Since the text is related to "The Little Prince", I will end it with a lamb.
One always succumbs to the charm of mystery. Despite the absurdity of the situation - for I was a thousand miles away from inhabited areas and in danger of death - I pulled a piece of paper and a fountain pen from my pocket. At that moment I remembered that after all, I had only studied geography, history, calculus, and grammar, so worriedly I told the boy that I could not draw. But he replied:
That's all right. Draw me a lamb.
Since I had never drawn a lamb in my life, I showed him one of the two drawings I knew how to make: a drawing of a boa constrictor snake. To my surprise, the little boy replied:
No, no. I don't want an elephant swallowed by a boa constrictor snake. The boa is too dangerous and the elephant is too big. I don't have enough room. I need a lamb. Draw me a lamb.
I drew a lamb. The little one looked at it carefully and said:
No, this lamb is already very sick. Make another one.
I drew one.
The little friend smiled politely with indulgence:
Take a look. It's not a lamb, it's a ram. He has horns.
I made a new drawing, but it was rejected just like the previous one:
This lamb is too old. I want a lamb that will live a long time.
Losing patience, because I wanted to get on with repairing the motorcycle as soon as possible, I scribbled this picture and said:
This is the box. The lamb you wanted is inside.
I was very surprised to see the joy on the little critic's face. This is exactly what I wanted. Do you think you need a lot of grass for this lamb?
Why do you ask?
Because I have so little space ...
I'm sure it's enough. I gave you a very small lamb.
He bent his head over the drawing.
Not so small. Look, he fell asleep ...
That was the beginning of my acquaintance with the Little Prince.
I hope, dear reader, that you will draw as many such lambs as possible.