Reflections on Genius

At the Aspen Institute this summer, one of my main jobs is to Archive all of the Institute's historical documents. While this sounds tedious, and sometimes it can be, it is also extremely rewarding.  The Institute has a rich history and to learn from not only the minds that come through our doors this summer, but also all those came through in the past, is a truly unique and inspirational opportunity.

As a part of this job I've been piecing together the story of Benjamin Britten's acceptance of the Aspen Award in 1964. Having already archived photographs of the scene, award invitations, and other notifications, I was thrilled when I finally came across his speech.  I've archived many speeches since starting this project, all extremely thought provoking, intellectual and inspiring, but this one was different.  Upon reading it, I was immediately struck by how very unique and personally relevant this piece was, especially in the context of my fears and worries from the last week.

I think a bit of backstory is in order. In case you are unaware, Benjamin Britten was a composer of the 20th century from England. He had an illustrious career both in the United States and in Europe, and was awarded the Aspen Award not only for his stellar compositions, but more importantly, for his character and wisdom.  Britten was a humanitarian at his core, realizing the common bonds of his humanity and his role as a composer to honor those bonds,

In his acceptance speech, Benjamin Britten maintains the up-most humility and appreciation.  He opens the speech, jokingly understanding his only role in humanities as the "being human" aspect, however the audience quickly gathers that he is far more of a humanitarian than he originally lets on. Throughout the speech,  Britten speaks of the role of the composer as a servant to the situation and the needs of those for whom he is writing, "its the composer's duty, as a member of society, to speak to or for his fellow human beings" (4).  When speaking about the work of composition, he refers to the process as facilitated by another conscience that is separate from one's own desires.  Finally,  he discusses what to do with the financial aspect of the honor and decides that he wishes to establish a similar gift, furthering the impact of the Aspen Award and honoring fellow humanitarians striving under the same goal.

Interestingly, when talking about the art of composition, he references something to the effect of another conscience that works with the composer to create the desired piece.  The way he spoke reminded me of a Ted Talk Elizabeth Gilbert gave a few years ago on the topic of Genius.  In her conversation she explains the ancient roman understanding of the Genius, a being who works with the artists or individual in order to help create the masterpiece.  She complains that this understanding disappeared with the Renaissance and since has put undesired, and sometimes dangerous, pressure on the individual to produce superhuman work.  Gilbert advocates for the return of this original understanding of the genius.

What was most inspiring about the evolving story of Benjamin Britten's acceptance of the Aspen Award was not what he received, but how he received it  He accepted the Aspen Award with grace and humility, realizing his role in the achievement, but also that of the "genius."  To Britten, what mattered was serving his audience.  His interpretation of the musician as a channel for, in Elizabeth Gilbert's words, genius, and the role of both genius and artist to serve their audience resonated with me.

It was in reading Benjamin Britten's speech and being enveloped in his story as well as the talk by Elizabeth Gilbert that I had a moment to reflect on the anxieties I experienced at the top of the Red Butte Trail last week.  I realized I need to further refine my thought process on the issue of the future of my life and the pressure I so often feel, especially here in Aspen. I need to remember the rest of humanity, that audience to which Benjamin Britten was such a servant, and that my own genius will be a part of my professional journey in whatever direction it takes. I must come back to the two elements so instrumental in Britten's work: the bonds of humanity and the influence of creativity that goes beyond oneself.  My responsibility is to work my hardest and be true to the common humanity that unites Benjamin Britten, Elizabeth Gilbert, myself, everyone in Aspen and beyond. Keeping those two goals at the forefront of my drive, my own story will evolve.

Streams of Fear, Breezes of Rationality

"On top of the mountain, with the emptiness stretching for miles and miles my mind was free of materialistic distractions and company and these feelings, who had been trying to tackle me for days, finally enveloped me"

At the one mark into this journey I have hit an emotional peak point. It happened as I climbed the top of the Red Butte trail yesterday.  Finally, as I sat to catch my breath at the top of the peak, my emotions overwhelmed me and I broke down. Ha! So much for catching my breath! All of a sudden, I was overcome by a rush of feelings: insecurities associated with budding friendships, memories of faded ones, feeling the impossibility of senior year and figuring out the future coupled with the pressure I imagine while I am surrounded by incredible individuals here at the Aspen Institute and the confusing thoughts that cloud my rationale.  On top of the mountain, with the emptiness stretching for miles and miles my mind was free of materialistic distractions and company and these feelings, who had been trying to tackle me for days, finally enveloped me. I felt little and small and smushed by the weight of all the emotional baggage I had been carrying throughout the week and month and I wasn't going to carry it anymore! I threw it away in each tear, struggling to stop the embarrassing, visible display of emotions while at the same time knowing that I needed to push the heaviness out and reabsorb the light, the truth and the clarity that only the cleanse on this mountaintop could provide.

Aspen is wonderful and, as stated in previous posts, pleasurable and inspiring, but as with any setting, what makes it amazing can also make it impossibly challenging.  Surrounded by affluence while at the same time an immense knowledge of the world's problems can be a dichotomy that is extremely difficult to comprehend. In such a beautiful setting, I almost feel guilty for not being more connected to the source of the many problems being discussed. At the same time, I recognize this is such a unique opportunity that I have never experienced before: the chance to fully appreciate, soak up and learn in an environment that is so, very foreign from anything I've ever known before. So where is the line between experiencing, soaking up the glories of Aspen and being driven to make an impact on a few of the many problems discussed up in these beautiful hills? Am I using this experience correctly? Am I learning enough, pushing enough, experiencing enough while also maturing enough to tackle all that I'm learning, pushing and experiencing? How will I know? Will I know? Am I doing this right!?

Now, I see that thought process escalated quickly, I'm sure some of the doubt seems ridiculous, and though I know that, in the moment of worry, it feels real to me, like an undeniable truth.  And when that reality clashes with the creeping insecurities, the waterworks commence.  Luckily, there is something of the cleansing power of crying, especially on the top of a mountain, that finally allows me to see just a little bit more clearly.  That, coupled with the wise, reassuring words of my ever-compassionate mother. The breezes that billowed by as I sat atop Red Butte watering the dry stone with my tears, blew some comforting rationale back into my mind. I am 21 years old and I have a whole lifetime to figure these questions out. I am not supposed to have it all figured out yet, that would be extremely boring and pointless.  This experience is just one of the many, diverse opportunities to put in the thought provoking line of puzzle-piece memories that will make a beautiful picture when all is said and done. For now, I must experience, learn and grow and follow the clues that will lead me to solving this beautiful truth someday, but not today or tomorrow, and probably not the next day.  What I must do is continue experiencing, thinking, debating, processing and driving myself through my time in Aspen to the next opportunity that lies on the horizon.

It was with that, much more rationalized truth that I was finally able to calm the flow of tears, understand my insecurities and honor them, empower myself with new-found resolve and direction and head back down the mountain.  My burden was lighter, the walk much easier and the beauty ever-clearer to my newly cleansed eyes and mind. Today, though still haunted by various fears in my exhausted state, I feel the truth, burning inside and moving me along to the next experience with gratitude and grace.

Processing the Overload of Inspiration

 "The roadmap is yours! GO MAKE YOUR MAP!"

Zest is in full swing here at the Aspen Institute this week. The Aspen Ideas Festival is taking off and thousands have flocked to the base of the hills to be inspired by leaders in the fields of health, government, religion, environmental studies, technology and international affairs. Its not uncommon to pass Richard Dawkins, Lawrence Summers, Katie Couric, the Surgeon General, among others, as they walk around the campus to various talks and lectures.  My role in all of this has been to be hands wherever I am needed, and through my various jobs I have been lucky enough to listen to the conversations and presentations that are taking place. There is no dull conversation, no irrelevant speech, all are enriching and inspirational.  There is so much to process that I am overwhelmed, but I want to record my thoughts and the thoughts the speakers have shared in order to begin to understand all the brilliance I have experienced in the past few days.  Specifically, in this post I want to focus on the inspiring words of a few women leaders I encountered during the festival.

A few nights ago, I went to a fascinating panel where eighteen women who are leaders in their respective fields spoke on their experience as women doing their jobs and living purposeful lives. Their advice was empowering, especially to a young woman looking to figure out what the hell she is doing after she graduates college.  It was in the freedom for which they advocated that I found focus and guidance.  A theme of their wisdom was living life in the "and." These leaders advocated that young women not limit themselves, but live full lives in whatever fulfilling directions they decide, even if the ways are multiple and seemingly conflicting.  One theme I especially attached to was the call to "never import other people's limitations. The roadmap is yours! GO MAKE YOUR MAP!"

It was ironic that the topic of maps was brought up in the discussion had by those women, because this past week I had a major edit to my own roadmap.  On Tuesday I broke up with my boyfriend.  I realized he was going in a different direction  than me, and he was not unwilling, but more unable, to appreciate the path down which I wanted to take my life.

The chance to listen to the women on this panel share how they had designed their own maps of life allowed me the opportunity to re-imagine mine with the wisdom and guidance of their leadership stories.Their call for young women to live with humility and fearlessness in the face of our own journeys in life inspired me as I prepare for my final year of college and the next step beyond amidst this new change to which I am adjusting.  Though I am still unsure of what direction my life will take and where I shall next explore,  this conversation has prompted me to pull out my roadmap, erase a few pathways and sketch new possibilities.