Aider une personne à développer sa créativité

Ce soir j'ai eu une conversation édifiante avec un ami. Il pensait qu'aider une personne à développer sa créativité, c'était "être présent, l'aimer, l'encourager". Je crois que tout le monde pense ça, mais la vérité, c'est que ça n'aide que ceux qui n'ont pas besoin d'aide et qui s'en seraient sortis de toutes façons. Je le vois avec ma copine, ça fait 5 ans que je l'encourage à faire de la peinture, que je lui achète des boîtes de peinture, que je m'extasie devant ses oeuvres, et qu'est-ce que j'ai obtenu avec ça ? Quelques tasses et coquetiers, une boîte aux lettres à moitié finie avec 3 poissons... Par contre, depuis que je peins des icônes, la productivité a nettement augmenté. C'est la même chose pour tout (sauf le ménage et la cuisine, Dieu merci). Si je fais du home-trainer, il sera impossible de l'empêcher d'en faire. Si j'arrête, il sera impossible qu'elle continue. Et si je veux que le jardin se fasse, j'ai intérêt à prendre l'initiative, mais une fois que tout est planté elle veut bien arroser. Si j'oublie de planter, on n'a rien à manger. Et elle serait d'accord pour faire du violoncelle... pour autant que je continue le violon bien sûr. Aider quelqu'un, c'est ce que ça coûte, et d'ailleurs tous les maîtres l'ont compris. Quand Rudi demande à ses disciples de rénover une baraque, il doit être là à chaque minute. Et que se passe-t-il s'il s'absente quelques heures ? C'est la fin des haricots. Non seulement le travail ne se fait pas, mais il se défait.

Every weekend we came up and painted, cleaned, repaired, and removed accumulated junk. We paused only for classes. Though it wasn't immediately obvious the productivity of our efforts greatly depended on Rudi’s presence. He didn’t do too much of the work himself, but supervised the entire process and kept it moving. One day, he went away for four hours. I watched with helpless fascination as things began to decay. People who had been working quietly began to drift off. Others who usually had their own ideas about what to do, which they kept to themselves in Rudi’s presence, began ordering other people around. Little was accomplished. Most of that was sloppy and incorrect. The wall that was supposed to be orange was painted blue. Machinery that should have been protected by a drop cloth got spattered with paint.  Rudi returned, took stock of the situation, and in ten minutes had everything straightened out. But I never forgot the implication of what I had watched. Remove Rudi from the situation and decay set in almost immediately. He understood what he was dealing with, and knew how to keep otherwise stupid or difficult people moving along the right lines. A few days later during a pause in the work Rudi gestured with his hand for me to join him. He was sitting on a partially decayed log. At first he was quiet. "I could hardly believe what was happening while you were gone the other day," I said, to fill the silence. "Everything began to disintegrate." “I know," said Rudi. “But no one else noticed the difference." "How could they not see it?" I said. “]ust ask them. You’ll find out they thought it was fine. The fact that everything we are trying to build was being undone escaped them. You saw it because you know something about working from the years you spent in the Gurdjieff system. But you were probably happy that I was away, too." "Sure," I said. “It was much more relaxing." “At least you're honest. I don't enjoy having to yell at people and push them in a direction that's good for them. It isn't my nature. If it were up to me, I would be lying on the beach at Fire Island. I need a place in the country like a hole in the head."