I want to be a better man than the one I’ve become.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see a stranger. I am stooped. My waist has overwhelmed my hips. My beard has gone gray. My cheeks are fuller and rounder than I remember. My eyes are dull. The hardest part about seeing what I see is that I have no idea of this man’s future.

If I look back at a better reflection, one that I have created in my mind’s eye, this man is different. He’s nobler, wiser, well-loved and respected. If I see him in company, it is in the company of friends. They share details about their common lives, loves and their hopes and fears. He listens to each in turn, wise and circumspect in his advice. I want to become this man.

I believe that my path to that goal, to being that person, might be be found in helping others to become who they were meant to be, especially in their work as Creatives.

Last year, before I disappeared into myself, the concept for a course on Creative Counselling came to me. It will be loosely based around five key texts in my life. These are books that I have returned to over the years, fingers flicking through the pages to reread key passages. They comfort me by their presence, their strong spines standing proud in the centre of the bookshelf above my desk. Sometimes I keep them close to me, taking them in my bag as I travel, just one, not all, and I feel their familiar presence next to my bed in a stranger’s house or a cold hotel room. Often, I don’t open them. They’ll just sit on my desk for days, in a corner, reminding me of a duty, or a desire, or a promise I made myself the last time I opened their pages. I’m a reader. All books are my friends, but these books have become more than friends. You know what I mean?

Some friends become more than friends. The things they’ve said play over in your mind when long after they’ve left. These thoughts and memories, the ones you return to again and again, usually revolve around you in one way or another. Circular, spiraling inwards, coming closer and deeper into who you are when you’re alone. I’ll give you an example. A couple of weeks back an old friend an was talking  about the pressures of work. She’s a Production Manager, a stressful job at the best of times, but often made worse by the demands of the stars. But not always. She told us how sometimes those who have access to everything will eschew the trappings of fame and choose something simpler, more personal. On one production, she needed to organise accommodation for Elijah Wood. Coming out of The Lord of The Rings, she imagined he’d demand the star treatment. But she was surprised. He didn’t want the 5-star hotel the budget offered. He asked for an apartment, away from the rush, close to the area his character lived. All he wanted was a stocked refrigerator. Nothing special. And every day he saw her he thanked her for the work she did to keep him comfortable. It was an interesting anecdote, one that cut across the grain of what we think we know about film stars. We talked about being humble. It made me think. How would I be in the same situation? Would I choose the humbler, simpler option, or would I take what I could get? Am I happy with ‘enough’?

Those words have been circling, coming in closer and closer, talking to me about who I am, how I see myself, how I interact with others. A number of people I know could have shared a story like that, maybe not on the same subject, but they have anecdotes aplenty about all kinds of people in all kinds of situations. Their stories would have been good to hear, interesting at the time, but with the conversation over, the story would sink into the depths of memory. Gone. But hearing this story from this particular friend – it’s stayed in my mind. I trust her. She speaks the truth. I treat what she says with respect. That’s what I mean. She has become more than a friend, without even knowing it. She has become one of my secret mentors.

It is the same with these five books. They have become more than my friends. Secretly, they teach me things. The spirit within me communes with the spirit within them. Deep to deep. Their words of encouragement, admonishment and advice have stayed with me, long after I closed the pages. I will admit that some of the thoughts, ideas and anecdotes have transformed from their author’s original intention. They might have meant a paragraph as a cautionary tale, I have absorbed it as a challenge. They could have been writing a section on how to function as an artist, I have read that part as words of wisdom on relating as a father. There’s magic deep within.

There’s a verse in the Bible that talks about the Holy Scriptures, especially in this case the words of wisdom: “Every writing which is written by The Spirit is profitable for teaching, for correction, for direction and for a course in righteousness...” That’s an Aramaic translation of 2 Timothy 3:16, and closest to what I believe the original author had in mind. It speaks to every writing written by the Spirit. I’ll cast that net wide. There is so much out there that is good. And I want to use these resources to help other people.

The idea of using concepts from these texts in order to help others with their creative interactions with the world isn’t selfless. I’ve found that if I help people, it helps me. Helping you to solve your problems or issues in your creative endeavors helps me to better understand my problems. And it makes me feel good.

Here are the books.

The first is “Art and Fear” by David Bayles and Ted Orland. Here’s a quote from the Amazon site:

“Art & Fear explores the way art gets made, the reasons it often doesn’t get made, and the nature of the difficulties that cause so many artists to give up along the way. The book’s co-authors, David Bayles and Ted Orland, are themselves both working artists, grappling daily with the problems of making art in the real world. Their insights and observations, drawn from personal experience, provide an incisive view into the world of art as it is experienced by art-makers themselves.”

Sitting right next to that on the shelf is “Iron John” by Robert Bly. This is from the jacket:

“In this groundbreaking classic, Robert Bly writes that men now know the images of adult manhood offered by popular culture are worn out – and that they can no longer rely on them. He searches for a new vision of what a man is or could be, drawing on psychology, anthropology, mythology, folklore and legend.”

In my bag at the moment is the third: “The Van Gogh Blues – The Creative Person’s Path through Depression”, by Eric Maisel Ph.D. Here’s a quote from the book itself.

“”…virtually 100 percent of creative people will suffer from episodes of depression. Why virtually 100 percent? Because every creative person came out of the womb ready to interrogate life and determine for herself what life would mean, could mean, and should mean. Her gift or curse was that she was born ready to stubbornly doubt received wisdom and disbelieve that anyone but she was entitled to provide answers to her own meaning questions.”

The fourth, which is in the bookshelf next to my bed. “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor E. Frankl.

“Psychiatrist Viktor Frankl’s memoir has riveted generations of readers with its descriptions of life in Nazi death camps and its lessons for spiritual survival. Between 1942 and 1945 Frankl labored in four different camps, including Auschwitz, while his parents, brother, and pregnant wife perished. Based on his own experience and the experiences of those he treated in his practice, Frankl argues that we cannot avoid suffering but we can choose how to cope with it, find meaning in it, and move forward with renewed purpose. Frankl’s theory—known as logotherapy, from the Greek word logos (“meaning”)—holds that our primary drive in life is not pleasure, as Freud maintained, but the discovery and pursuit of what we personally find meaningful.”

Finally, the last, which is sitting on the end of my desk. “The Call: Finding and Fulfilling the Central Purpose of Your Life” by Os Guiness. A quote from the book:

““To play was to be,” said Yehudi Menuhin. “All the rest was rehearsal,” said Artie Shaw. “Nunc dimittis,” said John Coltrane. Somehow we human beings are never happier than when we are expressing the deepest gifts that are truly us. And often we get a revealing glimpse of these gifts early in life. Graham Greene wrote in The Power and the Glory, “There is always one moment in childhood when the door open and lets the future in. “Countless examples could be added to these stories, but they all point to another crucial aspect of calling—God normally calls us along the line of our giftedness, but the purpose of giftedness is stewardship and service, not selfishness.”

There are many other sources of inspiration that can help us all live a meaningful creative life, one that impacts many people as the ripples spread. These books have helped me, and I hope they’ll help you too. Read them again if you have them, track them down if you don’t  They are worth it.  In the meantime I’ll work on the course. And keep you all posted.