I’ve been labeled a “genius” by various well-meaning folks over the years. Some of them even dared to slap on the more flattering “creative genius” tag. I suppose I should be flattered, but honestly, I’ve always found it a bit bewildering. Maybe it’s my tragic flaw, but I just don’t see it. Sure, I’ve got a quirky outlook on life that often baffles others. But the idea of calling myself a genius feels about as comfortable as wearing a suit made of porcupine quills.
Now, school doesn’t exactly prepare you to grapple with the concepts of creativity and genius. We’re shown something slightly out of the ordinary, and suddenly, everyone’s tossing around these labels like confetti at a parade. “Oh, look at that! How unusual! Must be genius!” It’s like calling the first person to put ketchup on a hot dog a culinary mastermind. Honestly, even that might truly be more revolutionary than half the stuff people call genius nowadays.
In my not-so-humble opinion, true genius is about being useful — changing the way people understand or do something in a meaningful way. A genius is someone who consistently shakes things up, who transforms the mundane into something extraordinary.
I’ve heard it said that genius is making the best of what you have and creating something new out of it. While that sounds lovely and all, it’s also as vague as political promises. For my own peace of mind, I feel compelled to dig deeper into these concepts. What exactly do we mean when we talk about creativity and genius? Are we just throwing around these words to make ourselves feel smarter, or is there some substance behind them?
But shouldn’t these be straightforward ideas? Well, I suspect our understanding of genius and creativity is about as deep as a kiddie pool. We take these grand concepts at face value, without ever questioning what they really involve. This, my dear readers, is a recipe for intellectual laziness. We can’t have that.
Perhaps, genius is nothing more than the ability to overthink everything to the point of insanity. If that’s the case, then yes, I suppose I am a genius, though it’s not exactly something to brag about. Emotional masochism aside, let’s tackle the first of these tangled concepts: understanding.
Before we can even approach creativity or genius, we need to figure out what it means to truly understand something. If you’re starting to feel confused, don’t worry—you’re not alone. But stick with me. I promise that by the end of this rambling journey, I might just stumble upon the point I’ve been trying to make all along. Or, at the very least, we’ll have a good laugh at my expense.
Understanding, I’ve come to realize, is a word that gets thrown around far too casually. We’ve all been taught to equate understanding with memorizing facts, which is about as satisfying as calling a hamburger a gourmet meal just because it has a fancy sauce on it.There are so many things I’ve thought I understood, only to realize later that my understanding was as flimsy as a dollar store umbrella in a hurricane.
~ Amelia Desertsong
