Rules for Creative Living: Rule #5 — Humility

Mahatma Gandhi was the personification of humility leading his people against tyranny with non-violent civil disobedience in the 20th Century.

“A great man is always willing to be little.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Philosopher

What does it mean to be humble? To stay small? To accept being wrong? To not assume that you know? These are all true descriptors of humility. But humility is really about understanding and accepting the fact that we’re all extremely insignificant, both in time AND space. The billions of stars and galaxies out there and the so many unknowns (including the unknown unknowns) are a clear indicator of how incredibly miniscule we are. And since as artists we strive ultimately for objectivity, we must have proper perspective for us to find and express truth. We need to think big picture and small ego.

This is remarkably difficult for our species to do. Individually and as a society we’ve perhaps never been more narcissistic and all-assuming. We think that our meager advancements in science and technology justifies our ego-centric view of the world; electricity, nuclear weapons, computers and now artificial intelligence all seem to present a case for our superiority over other species and the universe itself. This is dangerous not only to the physical world we live in, but to each other. So it’s not surprising that, despite our bounty of material comforts and instantaneous global communication, both our communities and our environment continue to suffer. An ego-driven socio-economic system permeates almost every aspect of our lives; it’s hard to remember our place in this universe if we’re always thinking only of ourselves.

The world is a pretty big place. Do we dare to think we really know everything or anything at all?

Therefore, an artist’s creed for his behavior must include the following humbling acts:

a) A removal of pride

“Humility is nothing but truth, and pride is nothing but lying.” ― St. Vincent de Paul

Beginning with the acknowledgement of our own mortality is the first step to seeing truth.  It also serves as a reminder of what’s important and how we must honor our destiny. The individual who carries with him only pride and ego has already placed a restriction on his understanding and growth. And this lack of appreciation further limits his joy. Furthermore, being prideful, we become far too dangerously obsessed with ourselves. Then everything becomes about us, even when it isn’t. The ego, deemed so essential since the published writings of Sigmund Freud and Charles Darwin, is often a path to darkness, a path to soullessness and a loss of conscience. The world seems to have forgotten that the dominant theories of these “great” thinkers coincided precisely with the early developments of an ego-centric economic system in the late 19th Century. Given a mindset that only the self-centered, self-serving mind will survive and prosper, it’s not surprising that we’ve evolved into a world that carries with it near epic narcissism and lack of empathy. Just look at the names of our handheld devices and the “it is what it is” attitude toward injustice and impoverishment that permeates our society.

Oliver Stone’s infamous character Gordon Gekko (played by Michael Douglas in a Oscar-winning performance) in the 1987 film Wall Street. Meant as satire when the film was released, the tone here has become an accepted (and even lauded) motto of our times.

Furthermore, pride builds on the power of greed and  fear.* Altho fear can be properly taken into perspective  as an indicator of risk and confronting the unknown, it cannot be a way of living. Continued prescient fear will drive a man mad or into deep depression. (This is evident in the vast usage of drugs to treat anxiety/depression and rising rates of suicide in the past couple of decades.) Today, we idolize the power of fear as a motivator for greater achievement. Both religion and art (via its countless novels, plays and films) have warned us of the dangers of selfishness, greed and power. I personally believe there is a better alternative to carry us forward. Instead of pride, we can use professional conduct as a driver for excellence by leading with a sense of service and common care, rather than selfish achievement or aggrandizement.

(*To get a sense of how pervasive fear has become today, look no further than the words of the most powerful executive in the largest company in the world today.)

b) A respect for others

“Just remember, when someone has an accent, it means that he knows one more language than you do.” ― Sidney Sheldon, Writer

As artists, we must always remind ourselves to refrain from quick judgement and criticism especially when it’s not constructive. To assume that we know everything or anything about someone or that much about anything at all is an exercise in ignorance. Besides, putting someone else down is a very weak way of propping ourselves up. If we need a boost to our self-esteem, going for a run would be far more effective.

I alway prefer to assume that I might be wrong. Sometimes this seems to be to my detriment, but I firmly believe that without considering other options, even when we’re confident, we end up  potentially closing up our minds. This I cannot afford to do. I know the limits of my abilities and my intelligence. If we are to keep an open mind, we must be willing to listen and be willing to entertain ideas that are different from ours. It’s the very essence of being an artist — to engage in the unknown. And to do so properly requires respect for others even if we might disagree with them. It’s not surprising, after all, that it’s our detractors who might most accurately help us find the faults or deficiencies in us that we cannot readily see.

“Man in a chair” by Lucien Freud. Study the works of an artist, not for its flaws, but for its wonders.

c) A respect for the craft, the tools and the materials

“We are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.” ― Ernest Hemingway, Writer

Art — all art — is difficult to learn and to do. It’s a very humbling process being a creative person. Art has a very direct way of telling us how lacking/deficient we are. This is risky and painful. And just to do art at all means to learn and understand the use and power of the tools. Each craft has its own tendencies and challenges. In oil painting for instance, the colors of the medium — although rich and sultry — have a tendency to want to succumb to earthy darkness and gloom. Watercolors, on the other hand, want to stay light and transparent. To get lightness and freshness into his oils  and more depth and richness into his watercolors, the painter needs to understand his medium and apply them to the best advantage. A long and rich exposure to the craft and its tools is a requirement for a full and honest education. The artist needs to take time to understand all of its properties and learn to use them well. Like the native American or Japanese Shinto practitioner, he might offer humble respect and thanks to even “dead” or inanimate objects that cross his path. In return, the artist is rewarded with greater self-reflection and a joy from superior performance.

A lot of time, love and accumulated knowledge (history) goes into the making of an artist’s instrument. Never forget to give your craft and tools the highest regard.

d) A sense of gratitude for what’s come before

“Nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart.” — Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Philosopher

It’s not uncommon today to see modern day artists offering little to no respect for the creatives that have come before them. Our generation (and I include all of Generations X, Y, and Z) is one seemingly forgetful of the concept of gratitude; we are quick to blame prior generations for our current misfortunes and absent in acknowledging what’s been generously given to us. This lack of regard ironically shows in the modern artist’s work. They make their appearance via trickery, duplication and appropriation (i.e. pawning off other’s ideas as if they’re their own). All art builds on what has come before but it’s all too easy to forget that one’s teachers, mentors, and the art of now bygone artists help shape our experience.

We forget — actually we almost have no idea — how hard it is to start from scratch, to work with almost nothing, with little support to lean on and no springboard to leap off from. Perhaps we feel no need to learn from history, to study (and pay homage to) the art of others, or to do all that hard “dated” work that strengthens the fundamentals. But from carpentry to filmmaking we’re witnessing a remarkable lack of originality and an accumulation of a whole lot of poor quality disposable product. I suspect this is what happens when we don’t respect and study the past. In contrast, the artist who respects and honors his predecessors is less susceptible to folly. Because he’s well-studied, he uses prior knowledge — prior experience — as a springboard for greater understanding and expression. He works to produce better products for broad use or individual expression. How he does things becomes as important as what he does. And his acknowledgement of those who’ve come before him allows for a maturity in his own development as it opens his eyes to the continued growth of the craft itself. He becomes a steward of the craft and not an owner.

Where would animation be without the contribution of Disney’s Nine Old Men

Summary:

Without humility we cannot advance. We also end up throwing away everything we’ve learned from previous generations because we can’t possibly hold onto something we deem unworthy of our attention or respect. But if we remember that our understanding is limited and that our place and time on this earth is rather small and short, our problems and insecurities fade. Then we can return to what’s important again: our work and our connections to this world and its past. And this requires an abolishment of our ego every time it surfaces.

“Humility is throwing oneself away in complete concentration on something or someone else.” ― Madeleine L’Engle, Writer

Up Next:

Rules for Creative Living: Rule #6 — Detachment