The Fun Conundrum & the Passion Paradox (Why joy and fun are not synonymous)

AAEAAQAAAAAAAAkkAAAAJGRiYzA5Nzg1LTk5ODUtNDM0YS1hMGUwLTA5ZGVhYTgwMjIzOQ

We are constantly being sold the idea that we can derive joy from amusement, and so we are fed endless videos, infinite hours of recorded music, electronic games so real they begin to supplant reality, pornography that’s anonymous and free at the click of a mouse, movies on demand . . . relentless buzzing, lights flashing, words projected, products proffered, senses overloaded . . . all to hypnotize us into buying more amusements that lure us into the notion that we’re having fun, and worst of all, that fun is joy. Fun isn’t joy. Compared to true joy, fun is thin, transient, fleeting, momentary, replace- able, and self-serving. Joy is broad, all-encompassing, deep, lasting, eternal, irreplaceable, generous, and often very costly in one sense or another. Hey, I’ve got no beef with fun; it’s wonderful and necessary. But there’s a problem when we as a society begin to think of fun and joy as synonymous.

Here’s the challenge: Knowing that our joy is bound up in our dedication to the people and things we truly love and that without that dedication we can have no joy, we need to be able to endure the burden that necessarily goes along with that dedication, both as individuals and as a society. That’s the nature and the cost of joy. It boils down to this: Can we stave off the smaller momentary gain for a larger subsequent one? We all admire people who have that kind of endurance. A great deal of what we’re seeing when we’re watching NBA star LeBron James, for example, is the personification of his dedication to basketball. He becomes the human exemplar of endurance.

It’s the same when we’re listening to the cellist Yo-Yo Ma or the late, great gospel singer Mahalia Jackson or looking at sculpture by Michelangelo. We are moved, of course, by the grace and art we’re witnessing, but we’re also moved by the enormity of these people’s dedication, by their ability to endure. Suffering, misery, and woe don’t sound like a lot of fun, and perhaps they’re terms that are too strong. But the larger point is that our utter commitment to our goals is the shortest path to joy, perhaps the only path to real joy.

One more simple way to determine if you’re acting creatively is to see whether possibilities for positive change have contracted or expanded. In other words, are you seeing a situation or tackling a challenge from the perspective of a Kid-Thinker or a Stuck-Thinker?

A Kid-Thinker acts in the moment; she’s not swayed by outside forces or inner turbulence. She’s free of negative emotions and able to look at things differently. A Stuck- inker is just the opposite. He’s trapped in the status quo, and because he’s often swayed by his emotions, he can barely imagine how a thing or situation can ever be different from how it appears. Being an observer requires being in the moment. Being in the moment is our state of mind when we are at our creative best. Getting yourself into that mental state can be learned, and consistently practicing what you’ve learned so far in this book is a good way of regaining what many of us lost as we moved from childhood, to adolescence, and into adulthood.

YOU CAN START your practice of staying a Kid- Thinker with fairly easy exercises utilizing things you find around you every day. For example, when someone butts in line ahead of you at the 7-Eleven, try not to lose your cool. But be forewarned, you’ll have just a second or two to choose whether you want to become upset or not. Your window of volition will be there, but it’s very small. The better you get at maintaining your observer status—that is, watching yourself before you get carried o by your emotions—the more you will be able to (1) remain in control of your decision-making faculties, (2) stay in the present, and (3) increase your capacity for empathic thinking.

This article was excerpted from Let Me Out (Unlock your creative mind and bring your ideas to life)

Peter Himmelman is a Grammy and Emmy nominated singer-songwriter, visual artist, author, film composer, entrepreneur, and rock and roll performer. He is the founder of Big Muse, a company, which helps unlock innate creativity. Clients include The Wharton School at the University of Pennsylvania, The UCLA School of Nursing, 3M, McDonald’s, Adobe, and Gap Inc. Himmelman is also an alum of the Kellogg School of Management, Northwestern. His latest book, Let Me Out(Unlock your creative mind and bring your ideas to life) was released October, 2016 and is available on Random House Tarcher/Perigee

“There’s deep wisdom here along with very practical tools for translating our ideas into the real world.” – Arianna Huffington

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s