Open to inspiration

Rachel LaVictoire, 18, is a recipient of the prestigious Nemerov Writing and Thomas H. Elliott Merit scholarships at Washington University, where she is a freshman. She grew up in Atlanta, where she is an active member of Temple Emanu-El and the Marcus Jewish Community Center. Rachel will be contributing regular commentaries and d’var Torah reflections, which will be posted on the Jewish Light’s website,  stljewishlight.com — some of which will also be included in the Jewish Light’s print editions.

By Rachel LaVictoire

All of my writing teachers stress the importance of writing. “Duh,” you might think, but I don’t mean the significance of the writing itself—what I’m referring to is the importance of the starting, putting words onto paper. I have been staring at my computer for two hours, aimlessly reading and writing. I told myself it was research, but I’m convinced, at this point, that it was procrastination. I have three documents open with three completely separate half-articles.

I found none of them satisfying and proceeded to open yet another new document. More reading, more research, and more procrastination led me to a line of Torah that I found both interesting, and somewhat humorous: Moses said to G-d, “If I have indeed found favor in Your eyes, pray let me know Your ways, so that I may know you… Show me, now, Your glory!” (Exodus 33:13-18). (This line comes from a selection read on the 5th day of Passover, which this year, falls on Shabbat.) How strange, I thought, that the most well-though-of biblical prophet would even consider asking that of G-d.

Obviously, we all have those days—maybe even weeks or months—during which we just want to look to G-d and, like a small child, stick out our tongues and yell, “Prove it!” I know I’ve talked about this frustration again and again, but the repetition should only speak to the level significance. Today I want to look at it in a new light.

I recently added the viewing of TED talks to my daily routine. For those unfamiliar with the nonprofit, it functions to spread ideas of Technology, Entertainment, and Design (TED) through various avenues, one of which being its free website full of over 1,000 TED Talk videos.

The other day I was watching a TED talk called “Your Elusive Creative Genius,” given by Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of “Eat, Pray Love.” She began with the question all writers hear: “Aren’t you afraid you’re never going to have any success?” Then, Gilbert mentioned her frustration with this discouragement of creativity, but recognized that it’s widespread.

So, she sought a solution: “I have to sort of find some way to have a safe distance between me, as I am writing, and my very natural anxiety about what the reaction to that writing is going to be, from now on.”

This idea led her to ancient Greece and Rome, which is where this article is going to join her. Gilbert explained that in these ancient cultures, “People did not happen to believe that creativity came from human beings back then, O.K? People believed that creativity was this divine attendant spirit that came to human beings from some distant and unknowable source, for distant and unknowable reasons.”

I can relate because I write. But to expand her idea, maybe it’s important to recognize the fact that creativity comes in other forms, some of which include problem-solving, imagination, and creation. Where does it all come from? Why is it that one minute you’re staring at a math problem—literally just staring at it because you’re too confused to begin. Then, suddenly, you get a “light bulb” moment and you know what to do. Why is it that you could be in the middle of cleaning the kitchen when you’re struck with an idea for your sales pitch?

Psychologists call it insight, and while it was certainly not their intention, the coined term fits perfectly. Insight, as I like to think of it, is literally sight from within. It’s that spark of G-d within every human being that ignites our creativity.

I find it difficult to schedule my writing time as my ideas are unpredictable. Creativity comes at all hours of the day—it pulls me out of the current moment and into the story it has chosen to tell. Strangely enough, whether the story is fact or fiction, poetic or direct, it’s in these moments that I feel most connected to G-d—like I’m I’m truly living the specific gift He chose for me.

It’s with this in mind that I smile back at Moses. I can’t choose when G-d enters my life or how G-d comes to me. I have no doubt that I will never know His ways. I can, though, fully engage in the moments that He gives me, rather than brush them aside among the haste of my average day. Look for the old instead of the new—instead of searching for proof of G-d, try to find G-d in what is already present.

G-d answered Moses’ request by saying, “I will let all My goodness pass before you; I will proclaim the name of the Lord before you, and I will favor when I wish to favor and have compassion when I wish to have compassion” (Exodus 33:19).

We, as human beings, will likely doubt the existence of G-d and the reliability of the Bible at one time or another. The key, taught in this interaction between G-d and Moses, is to doubt with an open mind, and be ready for those moments in which G-d chooses to drop in.