The Price of Creativity
Pressure, pressure, pressure unspeakable then BANG the world breaks open and a plateau pops up from solid rock, creating a fabulous view of the land below. That’s what happened in Central Texas.
That’s what happens in life, too. But we’ll talk about that in a minute.
Wizard Academy straddles the Texas escarpment, a magical place where the green meets the brown along a 480-mile crack in the crust of the southern United States. My geologist buddy Andrew Backus says it was created by continental shift during the Miocene era, about 12 million years ago.
It was along this plateau-ridge that the Spanish built their first missions. The rising tiers of white limestone rising 300 to 1,000 feet above the green prairies reminded them of balconies. And that is how the “Balcones” escarpment got its name. Notable features of this escarpment are its massive artesian springs gushing tens of millions of gallons per day.
But we’re not talking about geology today.
We’re talking about you.
And we’re not talking about the sparkling waters that gush up through a crack in the earth. We’re talking about the sparkling creativity that gushes up through a crack in you…
and the price of releasing that creativity.
The glistening water of your unconscious mind lies deep beneath your consciousness. The only way for it to come gushing out is through a shifting of tectonic plates.
Few things disturb us so much as those earthquakes that release our creativity.
If it’s been awhile since you felt the earth shifting beneath your feet, you’re probably feeling “a little dried up.”
Oh! I have your attention now?
Each of us has four different modalities of gathering and processing information. These modalities are called our “functions” and we arrange them in whatever order we prefer.
Your temperament is determined by the order of your preferences.
We operate chiefly in our most-preferred functions called our dominant and auxiliary. But when both of those have failed us, we reach deep within and begin operating in our tertiary function. It feels a little awkward and it causes us stress, but when our top two methods have failed us, it’s what we do.
And if that third-preferred function doesn’t deliver the desired result, we’ll dig still deeper to lay hold of our least-preferred method of interaction. Psychologists call this our inferior function.
We almost never go there.
But when we do – even if we stay there only briefly – the recovery time is glorious. Millions of gallons of creativity come sparkling into the sunlight through the crack created by that earthquake.
Dr. Richard D. Grant calls this process “a trapdoor to the unconscious.”
And now you understand why the first day of any transformative class at Wizard Academy is crammed-full of relentless stimulation. As you struggle up the mountainside, big ideas come roaring at you like boulders during an avalanche. You barely escape one before the next one is upon you.
You’re utterly exhausted by the end of the day.
But then you relax during dinner as you talk with your new friends, the ones who were with you on that mountain.
That’s when the magic begins.
It never fails.
Roy H. Williams