Knowledge: Boon or bane for Creativity?

Do something great.

I am at a crossroads. Staying on the path offers predictability, certainty, security. Turning left offers satisfaction, a sense of achievement, a chance for glory. Turning right offers excitement, new vistas, possibly misery but also creativity and gratification like nothing else. Guess which path I know the least about. The one to the right. But is it the right one for me? Am I ready for something creative?

Research suggests that the relationship between knowledge and creativity is complex and nuanced. Creativity is the result of a complex thinking process, so there are many influencing factors such as knowledge, thinking skills, motivation, environment... Knowledge provides a strong foundation for creative thinking. A thirst for knowledge is essential for creative exploration. Broad knowledge exposes you to diverse ideas and perspectives. A deep understanding of a domain empowers you to develop effective and innovative solutions.

At the core of this idea is the Ten Year Rule which shows that even the most noteworthy and talented individuals require many years of preparation before they begin to produce their masterpieces.

But can too much knowledge get in the way of creativity?

Too much knowledge can sometimes overload your cognitive processes, making it harder to think creatively. Deep knowledge can lead to confirmation bias, where you may be more inclined to seek information that confirms your existing beliefs, hindering open-mindedness. With expertise comes a sense of comfort and security, which can make you less willing to take risks and explore unconventional ideas. I know that that this risk-aversion has definitely stunted my entrepreneurial instincts.

Dean Keith Simonton’s U-shaped relation between creativity and education is based on research, which studied over 300 visionary individuals born between 1450 and 1850. The results showed that while some formal education may be necessary for creative development, excessive academic training may frame one’s thoughts into rigid stereotypes and paralyse creativity.

Is there an optimum? A point at which one feels they have sufficient knowledge to make a viable decision?

The Dunning–Kruger effect, a cognitive bias in which people with limited competence in a particular domain overestimate their abilities, explains this. As a corollary, high performers tend to underestimate their skills.

I suppose the key is in finding a balance. And, and this is a big AND, having a bias for action and experimentation. A moderate level of knowledge seems to be optimal for creativity. Too little, and you lack the foundation; too much, and you could be becoming overly rigid in your thinking and too risk-averse.

As I meander (and flounder) through this river of self-discovery, I'm consciously choosing to rely on three stepping stones - open-mindedness to new experiences, a growth mindset to view any mistakes as learning opportunities, and some playfulness where I jump into something just to have a good time.

I'm discovering that what hangs in the balance is not whether I'll do something great, but simply whether I'll do anything at all. I'm choosing to do something. Period. 

Bridges from the Past

Last week was atypical in so many ways, not least because I was in a foreign land. Foreign, but not unfamiliar by any means. I had the wonderfully nostalgic and refreshing opportunity to attend the 20-year Reunion of my MBA cohort, at the University of Oxford.  

With each person that I met again, many literally after 20 years, I thought of what had changed in the time that had passed. Time's a funny thing, isn't it? Like a trickster, it can play with our minds. It's like magic!

Sometimes, you can spend years with someone and still feel like strangers. And then, there are those times when you meet someone and it's like you've known them forever. You can see someone every day and still feel like you're miles apart. But you can meet someone after years and it's like no time has passed.

The top three questions that came up in all initial conversations were: #1 what do you do now and what's been the journey, in terms of locations and vocations, over 20 years? #2 how many kids do you have and how old are they? #3 when was the last time you were in Oxford?

#2 and #3 were a matter of fact. What struck me was the diversity in the stories I heard in response to #1. Of course, this was to be expected simply given how diverse we had been as a class, 170 people from 47 countries, almost a third of whom had made it for this occasion. It was by far one of the most talented, fiercely driven, and brightest groups of people I've ever been amongst. So it was understandable that many had risen to the top of their chosen professions, while some had changed their vocations completely, yet achieved measurable success. Overall, it spelt a certain sense of equilibrium as far as a professional identity was concerned.

But I was most intrigued by the stories where people had taken a pause in their careers, or veered off the beaten path, or decided that they needed more change before settling down into stability. And this got me thinking about why, in this day and age of knowledge work, technologically well-supported at that, one feels compelled to appear 'occupied', 'engaged', 'busy', and constantly 'in the middle of something'.

A lot of people I talk to feel bad about taking it easy. They think they're lazy if they're not always busy. They don't like to relax, be alone, or just sit around. I get it, I've been there. In fact, I probably still am there!

For a long time, I needed other people to tell me I was doing a good job. I didn't take the time to figure out who I am, what I want, and what I need. Was I just trying to do what everyone else wanted me to do? Perhaps, I needed to look inside myself and ask what makes me happy and fulfilled, what makes my work meaningful to me.

Of late, I've begun to see how important it is to slow down and spend time by myself. I'm realising that the energy you have, whom you share it with, and how you expend it, are far more important than time. Every relationship, whether it is work or personal, is about exchanging energy in different ways. You can't tap into your energy and trust your gut unless you quiet things down, be still, and listen to yourself. You also need to get rid of old, negative beliefs. The ones that make you scared, judge yourself, and hold yourself back from being your best self. Soul-searching takes time...

And that's been the biggest takeaway from that magical Reunion Weekend in Oxford. As I progress through this sabbatical exploring, experimenting with, and evaluating different ideas, I realise that the path to the future is going to emerge from the interweaving of several threads from the past. 

Relationship status: ‘Uncommitted’

 I have just come out of a couple of relationships and am on the verge of exiting one more. The first was with somebody that I had held as a very close friend for a very, very long time. I did what would today be called ‘quiet quitting’, but in the realm of social relationships, following their lead. I decided that I would do the minimum necessary to be continued to be seen as their friend, which, in the current situation, is doing nothing at all. The second was with an employer from whom I had started to feel distanced for quite some time.

The third case, the one that I’m about to end, is perhaps the most nuanced because the relationship in question is not with a person or an entity but with an idea that I’ve held about somebody that was close to me. I’ve realised that, in my head, I had a very expansive vision for the potential of the relationship with them. And that potential is not about to be fulfilled. And, so, I must do what it takes to call it like it is. This idea just isn’t what I had made it out to be. So, I must not entertain it. This idea and me, we are not working well as a team anymore.

When do you know that a relationship has ended? There are several signs that pop up early, but a specific few signal the final nail in the coffin.

It usually starts with the sudden onset of forgetfulness - ‘I forgot we were to meet that day!’ ‘I forgot that it was your birthday/ anniversary/ performance!’ ‘I forgot that you were leaving then!’ ‘I forgot to ask if you are available.’ So many events and occasions are ‘forgotten’ that you wonder how this person functions through a regular day!

Then comes the phase ruled by the mighty calendar with which no one can mess around. ‘I’d have loved to meet that morning but a relative is visiting in the evening.’ ‘I really wanted to be there but the kids have a sports class that day.’ ‘I would have made it but I finally got a haircut appointment with my favourite stylist after ages!’ ‘I would have come but I have a new boss and they have a scheduled a team meeting that Sat morning to be prepped for the next week.’ You start to realise how this person has a whole (new) set of priorities and you are not anywhere in the top hundred.

After this, but sometimes earlier or later too, you start to notice the faint but distinct tone of formality and perfunctoriness in conversations, almost all of which are likely to be initiated by you. Brief, often monosyllabic, responses to queries/ questions/ remarks you might make, with little information being volunteered, and almost no interest in/ reciprocation by way of asking after your wellbeing.

Once this has gone on for long, you might feel the need to confront the person and ask what’s going on. But here is where you are in for what should be completely expected but could still strike you as unusual. In its mild form, it could be efforts to delay a response, but at its height, it is radio silence! A complete breakdown of communication despite every conceivable channel and technology being available. A refusal to be in a situation where they have audience with you and might find themselves in a spot. This really is the precursor of the end.

The end is really only about going through the motions then. A clinical, often generic note, delivered in a tone and language bereft not just of feeling, but also of logic. One-way communication with no pretence of any effort to save the relationship or even seek a response.

It has been hard to let go when I’ve invested so much time, effort and emotion in each of these relationships, whether I’ve been at the giving or receiving end. But for each relationship that I’ve signed out of, I’m so grateful for the many more that I’m still a part of! And each time someone gives me any feedback, especially the critical type, I feel fortunate that they care enough to let me know… to help me become a better person. I deeply value that commitment.

Therapy for the Soul

#myhorcruxes #friendships 

I've recently returned from a long overdue vacation. Like many other vacations that I've taken, there was the usual relaxing, sightseeing, dining and photo-clicking. But this vacation was special. It was the first in over eighteen months, and the first after Dad's passing, which was an unbelievably hard time. The last time I'd been to this place was with him and Mum.

When I first went to the UK over twenty years ago, I had butterflies in my tummy for all kinds of reasons. I'd never been outside India, didn't know a single person in the new country, had taken on a huge financial liability to be able to study abroad in an expensive country, and was going to be away from family for the longest time that I'd ever spent apart from them despite the boarding school experience as a child. 

But every visit since has always felt like a homecoming. This time I was visiting somewhere I'd never been - Wales, and somewhere that I've actually lived before - London, one of my favourite big cities in the world. But what set this vacation apart was the opportunity it gave me to reconnect with so many friends from that part of the world. And just that has been so overwhelmingly therapeutic. 

I got to meet some of them after a gap of six months, some others after more than five years, and yet others after two decades! With each reunion, however, despite the physical changes we noticed in each other, the feeling of nostalgia and reconnection was palpable. It was almost as if the time in between had not passed. 

When friends meet after long periods of time, the conversations tend to be rather unstructured and meandering - one moment we'd be discussing the weather (a common British pastime no doubt), the next we'd be asking each other the size of our broods... or the size of our investment portfolios, and seamlessly move on to narrating a recent incident on the train (like being separated from a child on the London tube - mine!) 

While there were several group reunions, sometimes one meeting was not enough, and so mini-group reunions followed the bigger ones. And sometimes even that was not enough so one-on-one meetings were also required. There was just so much to catch up on! I happily flitted from breakfast meetings to brunch meetings to lunch meetings to coffee meetings and then to dinner meetings, on a single day at times. 

Given I was on vacation but everybody else was not, scheduling catch-ups required some pre-work. Making trusty old Whatsapp my main tool, I managed to provide sufficient heads-up to most people that I was around. But just as a surprise element can make an exquisite choreography even better, some of the most heartwarming rendezvous were those that were not even planned. 

A friend that I hadn't seen in twenty years reached out after they saw a post from me on LinkedIn mentioning my arrival in the UK. Another who had remained incommunicado for all practical purposes for the better part of two decades insisted on taking a train ride together just so we'd have some quiet time by ourselves outside the large-group chatter. Another showed up to a group dinner early so that we'd have some one-on-one time together. And one made a surprise appearance when I wasn't expecting to see them at all, brightening up my day. 

But time has passed after all, and there is so much that I have missed, so many stories that I haven't heard and shared. Not just birthdays, weddings, promotions and change of careers or home bases, but also the birth of their children, the demise of their parents, the separation from spouses, the health scares, the trials and tribulations of being single parents, the anxiety over and reconciliation with the fact that their choice of where to put down their roots had changed their family structure forever...

I was reminded of how much more I had to learn and do as a friend. And how much joy it brought me to be in the same time and space as them, sharing parts of ourselves with each other, in a way that no amount of social media could ever do. The horcrux analogy by Trevor Noah really rang true for me in every way. These conversations, however truncated they may have seemed, put back more life in me in a single week than I've had in several months! And I'm so grateful for my good fortune in having such horcruxes who make me come alive again. 

I came back from the vacation refreshed, rejuvenated,... healed. I came back having renewed my vows to be a better friend.