What My Dad Taught Me About Creativity

Father’s Day yesterday passed us by; neither of us has fathers left on this earth and we are thousands of miles away from our own children so apart from receiving their good wishes it’s been uneventful- which is fine. But as I sat on a little beach at the edge of a peninsula on Vancouver Island I was thinking a lot about my dad- he would have loved it there- and in particular the impact of his urge and ability to create things, which was a lifelong foundation to his sense of self. I never had an easy relationship with him, and it was only in the months leading up to his death and in the 6 years since, that I feel I have got to know him. With time and distance I’ve come to understand how alike we are, but growing up in a totally different time and environment often made the gulf between us feel awkward and insurmountable. But yesterday I paid homage to what he continues to teach me now about creativity.

**No matter how busy your life is- if you don’t do it, you will suffer.**
Dad always had a project on the go. As the main breadwinner he commuted to his job as a civil engineer and we traveled to many different countries for different projects for a year or two at a time. Whether we were at home or abroad, he was always building something. A house, a steam engine, several boats. A doll’s house for me, fire trucks for my brother (this was before gender stereotyping was a thing!) When dad had a project, he was in flow, happy, energised and fulfilled. He came into dinner late and worked into the night. (Mum had to get used to doing her own thing and took up her own creative projects, which I’ll write about another time.) These habits and characteristics I recognise in myself now, although I think I manage to balance them slightly better with my family responsibilities than dad did! I realise now that this creative work of his was his antidote to a sometimes dreary day job and a stressful commute. It kept him sane. For me, now, though I have more than enough to do caring for my mother, supporting 2 young adults and a husband who works harder than anyone else I know, through their own trials and tribulations and all the domestic stuff that goes along with it, building a creative career continues to be the most fulfilling work I’ve ever done. If I gave it up to concentrate on all the other stuff, heaven knows what state I’d end up in.

**Support matters.** And maybe it doesn’t have to be the human kind. The main difference between my dad and me is that I readily ask for and accept support. I’m an introvert but I relish close and meaningful relationships. But I’m aware that Ine close friend and a very loving and committed relationship with Mum, but never, ever did I hear him talk about his inner world. The language that we share here, about self doubt and resistance and fear of failure was unknown to him. He was a chronic under-sharer and undoubtedly took secrets about a difficult childhood to his grave with him. There was always an underlying sadness and a dark reserve. But he clearly craved working with his hands and this work gave him great joy and comfort, and, I like to think, helped him channel his feelings into some kind of peace.

**Never stop learning.**Dad sought mastery in everything he did. Whether it was yacht navigation, speaking French, or the lifelong skill he nurtured of carpentry and cabinet making, he worked hard to hone his natural talents into a level of mastery such that the rest of the family often felt that we disappeared into his shade. Precision, design and efficiency was everything.
Not bad values to be raised with, you might think, until you stop and consider the effect on a sensitive teenage girl’s self esteem when trying to work things out for herself… it’s taken me the best part of 4 decades to understand that we learn as much from failure as from success. It wasn’t a lesson I was taught as a child.

What would I give for a conversation with dad now. To thank him for what he taught me; by showing if not by telling. To forgive him for what he didn’t. To tell him I understand a bit more now, now that I’m further on my journey of self knowledge, about who he was and the challenges he faced. And to finally forgive myself for wasting so many years trying to please him rather than be true to my own creative calling. I think he’d really appreciate that, for he truly was his own man and didn’t act in order to please others, sometimes to my chagrin- and embarrassment!
More than anything, I’d tell him that I love him- I didn’t do that enough when he was alive.
Hug your dads, kids, whether or not they are still here on this earth.