Creative Lives

By Rick Fullerton | Bio


I
am waiting for our third grandchild to be born. In fact, everyone in
our family and circle of friends is primed for the big event—but none
more so than the mother and father to be. Their lives are about to be
totally transformed when their love, commitment and belief in the
future is expressed in the arrival of ‘baby’. 

Birth, for most
people, is the ultimate miracle of life. So it is natural that birth is
celebrated universally as an act of creation. Beyond the waiting, the
sacrifices, the preparation and the costs, bringing a child into the
world is a symbolic declaration of possibility like no other. Seen
another way, procreation is an act that ensures the progeny of people,
the future of families, the continuation of communities and ultimately
the survival of our species. Little wonder we make such a fuss about
babies!

Beginning our lives as infants, we are helpless and
vulnerable, yet incredibly powerful. Our early years are marked by
growth, learning and playfulness. Children experiment, explore,
question and amaze us with their imaginations. Yes, childhood can be
seen as a period of great creativity.  

As we are schooled, we
adopt the ways of the dominant culture, often sacrificing much of our
natural curiosity and spontaneity in favour of disciplined approaches
that have survived the test of time. Still when adulthood arrives with
demanding jobs and increasing responsibilities, there are many ways to
express our creativity, whether it be in our work, our leisure
interests or in our families. Most people look on their prime adult
years as the most meaning-filled and creative of their lives.   

So
what about our ‘senior’ years? According to Erik Erikson, one challenge
of the latter stages of adulthood is “Generativity vs. Stagnation”.
Either we seek to “assist the younger generation in developing and
leading useful lives” or, failing that, we experience stagnation.
Interestingly, Erikson’s final stage of adulthood, “Integrity vs.
Despair”, speaks about reflecting on the life lived and the consequence
of the resulting assessment.  

The implications for those of us
committed to continue contributing as seniors are clear. I need to
choose a path that will serve the younger generation—to foster their
learning and development. I’m reminded of the saying: “Those who can,
do; those who can’t, teach.”  While this used to have a pejorative
intent, as my capabilities and commitments change, this quote has taken
on a new, more positive appeal. The credibility flowing from past
success is an important contribution to the learning process. Indeed,
the better saying might be, “Those who can, do; those who did, teach.” 

Of
course, my own learning must continue as well. Who do I need to be to
best serve my children, grandchildren, graduate students, clients and
younger professionals? What skills and behaviours will enhance their
learning? What should I stop doing or do less of?  What is best
maintained or increased? How will I recognize success? 

When I
reflect on my career and life to date, it does not automatically mean I
am hanging up my spurs. It is not too late to generate new
possibilities and choose more commitments worth pursuing. Addressing
the challenge of generativity does not mean giving up everything else.
Rather the secret to a meaningful life lies in conscious choice, loving commitment, and continuing creativity—ideally, right to the end of life and perhaps beyond!