Oxygen

Oxygen (O2) -- According to Google, "a colorless, odorless reactive gas, the chemical element of atomic number 8 and the life-supporting component of the air."  Especially "the life-supporting component of air."  We don't think about it much.  Through a miraculous process called photosynthesis, our plants and trees deliver oxygen to us so routinely that most of us take for granted the air we breathe.

Today I helped design a game in which children would figure out how many trees needed to be around them to deliver enough oxygen to support that individual's life.  Quite a concept. 

Oxygen comes in many forms.  There is "the colorless, odorless reactive gas, the chemical element of life..." oxygen.  There is also metaphorical oxygen which become the "life-supporting component of the air."  Anytime we find hope in an otherwise hopeless situation, we have found oxygen. 

A friend of mine once told me that for months after his wife's death, his world was black. The only thing that kept him going, day to day, was his need to care for his young son.  Then, he said, one beautiful spring day as he walked to his car to go to work, he saw a flower blooming. He knew he had turned a corner. The flower had become his oxygen. He would make it without her.

This week I am attending a creativity and innovation class.  My graduate research was on creativity and leadership.  My creativity takes many forms: writing, dance/choreography, gardening, food display, and even on occasion music. I've consulted organizations on increasing creativity. When I have been deeply into writing a book, I find all of my creative outlets flourish.  I am a marginal pianist the rest of the time, but when I am writing, I have been known to compose and perform concerti. 

Yet, at the beginning of the class, when we took a creativity assessment, I had a very low "average" score.  It didn't surprise me.  I feel as if I work in a creative straight jacket, where even the glimmer of a creative thought can invoke the wrath of my supervisor, and severe consequences will inevitably follow.  During the first break, I spoke to the instructor.  How can I be "low average?" Then, a wave of emotion washed over me, "I feel dead here," I said.  I do...feel dead there.

This week my oxygen has been this class, not that it has been that good a class: it hasn't.  But it has provided me with creative oxygen--a life supporting component of creativity.  I've found myself doodling thoughts for a book in the margins of my class notes--a book that has been languishing in my computer for years.  It just needed oxygen.  Ahh!  Breathe deeply now: in and out and in and out.  I have one more day of creative oxygen.  I am relishing the prospect.

When we get on an airplane, the TSA spiel informs parents that in the event of emergency, they should put the oxygen on themselves before attempting to help their children.  Day after day, I've been attempting to bring oxygen to my client groups without following TSA's advice to take care of myself first.  On Thursday, I will jump deeply back into client work again.  This time I will remember to take care of myself first.