To imagine and create, we must first let go of the outer world, refocus within, and become aware. Then, once settled, we may throw light upon the canvas of the mind. Many things in the world are created in this way: gardens, bridges, boats and steeples. Even the humble teacup was once held privately in someone’s mind before it was molded from clay, glazed, and fired in a kiln.
Most everything manmade begins with an idea of form and function and is then carefully adjusted in the mind before becoming solid in the world. I imagine a word, and then I say the word; I imagine a house, and then I build that house. But what of a flower, a sparrow, or the sun? How did they come into being?
A canvas of elegance, symmetry, and delicate interdependence surrounds us on this planet, and we live and work, play and sleep enfolded in its beauty. A beautiful symphony does not happen by accident, nor does a painting, a book, or a poem; they are reflections of the inner life of the composer, the painter, and the poet. Let us then ask, might the act of creation in the natural world follow the same process as our own? If so, what or who created the great masterpiece of life that sustains us, even in this very moment?
Surely, a tree cannot exist without a designer any more than can a building: both are built with care and precision, one with cells and the other with bricks. Why should we assume that our process is special and separate from the workings of the rest of creation? If we see this progression working in us and we are an intelligent part of life, then why should we not assume that everything else in the universe has been brought into being in a similar way, by the will of a mind?
If so, we must recognize that the world is held steady, and that some great, creative, purposeful being must accomplish this work, some passionate presence that claims the evolution of nature’s artistry as its own. Who or what is this luminous, creative Mind that holds the beauty of this entire world in its awareness, the Intellect that creates the brilliance of a simple wildflower or fosters the soft roll of a billowing cloud?
But let us now ask: Were we held in a Mind before we came into being? Were we first created in God’s imagination? Is it too bold to suggest that the power in us to create is in some small way similar to the power God uses to create? Did the Creator create creators? If so, let us wonder if we are what and whom we were first intended to be. How far have we removed ourselves from the ideal that is held as a point in the heart of the great Mind?
Perhaps the answer is held in the glowing light of conscience.
Adapted from “Twelve Little Boats to God”