“How do I create something new, unique? How do I not sound like everyone else?”

Whether writing a piece of music, searching for a unique perspective at work, or even trying to write an interesting newsletter, it can be quite easy to fall into the sense that it’s all be done before.

The common adage is to use your unique perspective, i.e. “find your voice.”

Great. But how?

You might think it’s a matter of art, some secret alchemy bestowed upon the blessed few, that lets one create from some hidden spirit within.

But there are likely many paths to fostering and caring for that voice. One, in fact, comes from a quantum physicist.

Richard Feynman is often spoken of with great reverence and for good reason. Beyond his Nobel prize, his understanding of subatomic particles, his quirky approach to life and learning, he enjoyed sharing how he thought.

One method Feynman used in approaching problems was to create images in his mind. As he’d encounter a problem, he would take a few moments to picture the components and see how they’d relate to each other. From there, the materials were more accessible to his growing cauldron of ideas that would bubble into new ideas and solutions.

Now this is not the only way to internalize an idea. Feynman himself had a wonderful argument for how he discovered how differently people can think.

But the practice of internalizing, whatever the method, gives us a more tangible, visceral connection to the material at hand. With this foundation, we are no longer a passive receptacle. We no longer quote back by rote. Instead, we can take the information and build from a deeper sense of self, one that is more accessible to our emotions of play and care.

And I do think this a practice, not something given that one either has or hasn’t. It’s likely similar to playing an instrument like the piano. Maybe some of us start with a talent. But no matter where we begin, we still need to regularly connect with that field–learning, engaging, being with–internalizing.

And this is where, beyond showing up to practice, we find a deliberate act. Sitting at the keys, or with our words, somewhere in the midst of work and play, we can make a decision to imagine what we know and do not. In doing so, we begin that process of deliberately internalizing the materials.

When I remember to take my hands away from the keys, resting them in my lap, eyes closed, I picture the shapes and interactions of sound, rhythm, and harmony, Having done so, I often return with new ideas and energy. What was once unconscious is now conscious. I can guide the sounds closer to some internal spirit without getting in their way.

This deliberate act of taking in the work let’s us engage more deeply. We can find new paths, constructing with the objects as they are to take them in new directions, rather than simply react to them.

Frustrations tend to reveal opportunities; fears may even unfold into challenges.

– Kourosh

– PS Is there some piece of play or work you could pause with and, for a moment, close your eyes and imagine all of its parts? Imagine how they relate to each other? What happens if you do so?

– PPS : If you’re interested in learning more about Richard Feynman, consider his autobiography, Surely You’re Joking Mr. Feynman.