02-A

Conscious Creativity (C-C) Framework

The Self  
  • Pratītyasamutpāda (Co-dependent Origination)  
  • Aniccā (Impermanence)
  • Anattā (No-Self)


(Theory) 
 
The SelfWestern research on creativity has fixated on the individual as the primary unit of analysis, meticulously studying exceptional creatives from Van Gogh to Einstein (Anderson & Harvey, 2013; Bekker, 2001). This focus culminates in Amabile's (1988) influential assertion that individual creativity is the cornerstone of organizational innovation. However, such individualistic perspectives reveal inherent limitations in understanding the creative self.
          The Western conception of self as autonomous, independent, and self-deterministic (Hofstede, 1984) has undeniably driven cultural and intellectual advancements. Yet, this model also creates barriers to collaboration, undervaluing interdependence and relational processes (Markus and Kitayama, 1991). Gergen (2009) argues that in independent cultures, where personal identity, self-interest, and competition are prioritized over collective needs, individuals develop a “bounded self-concept” that becomes defensively closed. By framing creativity as the domain of isolated minds, the dialogic, iterative, and relational processes that truly drive innovation are overlooked (Sawyer, 2012). 
        This perspective is rooted in the prominence of the ego-self, which is more characteristic of Western cultures that emphasize individual autonomy and self-expression (Markus & Kitayama, 1991). Creatives, in particular, often develop heightened ego-selves due to the deeply personal nature of their work, viewing their creations as extensions of their identity (Csikszentmihalyi, 1996). This ego-driven attachment can lead to a fear of external influence or dilution of their vision, fostering resistance to collaboration and critique. Glăveanu’s (2014) sociocultural model of creativity positions the ego-self as a potential barrier to the kind of openness and reciprocity required for collaborative innovation. When creatives operate from a place of ego, they may prioritize self-preservation, ownership, and control over the collective emergence of ideas. The result is a fragmentation of collective efforts into competing pursuits that inhibit the emergence of creativity. Creatives rely on their strong sense of individual identity for inspiration; paradoxically, that same ego-driven perspective can impede their ability to participate fully in the processes that characterize true creativity.
        The paradox of the creative self—balancing individual voice with collective integration—requires a shift in how the self is conceptualized, a shift that Eastern philosophies have long addressed. Unlike the Western view of the self as autonomous and bounded, Eastern traditions emphasize interdependence, impermanence, and relational identity (Hofstede, 1984). Buddhism, in particular, employs a relational understanding of existence that challenges the ego-driven notion of self, offering a pathway for creatives to harmonize their personal identity with collaborative efforts. The concepts of pratītyasamutpāda (co-dependent origination), aniccā (impermanence), and anattā (no-self) highlight how detaching from rigid self-concepts allows for a simultaneous expression of individuality and facilitation of collective creativity (Hanh, 1999). 

  •        Pratītyasamutpāda (Co-dependent Origination)
           Creativity as Relational

        At the core of Buddhism’s relational ontology is pratītyasamutpāda, the doctrine of dependent origination, which posits that nothing exists independently; all phenomena arise in interdependence with other conditions (Bodhi, 2005). Sociocultural psychology research supports this claim: Vygotsky’s (1978) theory of social development, for example, posits that higher cognitive functions, including creative thinking, are co-constructed through social interaction. Similarly, Perry-Smith and Shalley (2003) found that diverse social networks enhance creativity by exposing individuals to varied perspectives and ideas. 
        When the concept of pratītyasamutpāda, “this exists because that exists,” is applied to creativity, it reframes the creative process as inherently relational and emerging from the interaction of individuals, ideas, and environments. For the C-C framework, this principle underscores the necessity of viewing the self as interdependent, enabling creatives to transcend ego-driven isolation and engage in collaborative processes that amplify creative emergence.

  •        Aniccā (Impermanence)
            Adaptability in Creativity

        The concept of aniccā, or impermanence, challenges attachment to static notions of the self and creativity. The concept of anicca, or impermanence, reminds us that all things, including identity and creative expression, are fluid and ever-changing (Bodhi, 2005). Research on adaptability and creative resilience agree: Cheng et al. (2014) highlight that individuals with a flexible mindset are better able to adapt to changing circumstances and integrate new information, which is critical in dynamic creative environments. Moreover, Dweck (2006) emphasizes the importance of embracing change and learning from feedback in developing a “growth mindset,” which parallels the Buddhist notion of impermanence.

(Cont’d)
    For many creatives, their work is deeply tied to their identity, leading to resistance to change or external input. When creatives cling to fixed notions of self—such as identifying solely with their past achievements or specific artistic styles—they risk stagnation and defensiveness in collaborative settings (Csikszentmihalyi, 1996). By embracing aniccā, individuals can approach creativity with adaptability and openness, allowing their contributions to evolve through iterative processes and collective input. The C-C framework integrates this principle by encouraging a mindset that values fluidity and growth over rigid control, enabling individuals to embrace their dynamic role within a group.

  •        Anattā (No-Self)
           Dissolving the Ego

        Perhaps the most transformative Buddhist teaching for addressing the ego-self is anattā, or the doctrine of no-self. Anattā challenges the notion of a fixed, autonomous self, emphasizing that the self is a construct arising from transient mental and physical processes. It frames the self as a mere illusion, a construct arising from temporary aggregates such as thoughts, emotions, and perceptions (Bodhi, 2005). Psychological studies in the areas of self-concept and ego depletion explain the benefits of anattā: Deci and Ryan’s (2000) research on self-determination theory suggests that intrinsic motivation and self-regulation improve when individuals transcend egoic patterns and focus on autonomous, authentic engagement with tasks. Additionally, Shapiro et al. (2006) show that mindfulness practices encouraging detachment from the ego-self enhance relational attunement and cooperative behavior, enabling more effective collaboration.
        For creatives, this perspective dissolves the ego-driven attachment to one’s work as an extension of personal identity. By relinquishing the illusion of ownership, creatives can shift their focus from protecting their individual voice to contributing meaningfully to the collective process. The result is not a loss of that voice but rather an amplification of it through collective enrichment. Within the C-C framework, this realization and shift of awareness allow individuals to see themselves as interconnected participants in a larger system, aiding creativity to emerge freely.

The transformation of the self, as explored through concepts like 
pratītyasamutpāda, aniccā, and anattā provide the foundation for developing a consciousness mindset. When individuals transcend egoic patterns and embrace a fluid, relational understanding of the self, they become more adaptable, resilient, and open to collaboration and mutual exchange (Shapiro et al., 2006). This reimagining of the self—moving away from a bounded, ego-driven identity—directly shapes the emergence of creativity within collectives. This shift enables creatives to participate in dialogic and emergent processes that go beyond individual contributions, fostering what Csikszentmihalyi (1990) describes as “group flow”—a state where collective efforts lead to outcomes that surpass what any individual could achieve alone.

(Practice)

I have not reached a permanent state of anattā—and, honestly, I’m not sure if that is even possible while navigating the realities of a competitive, capitalistic world. Anattā and the world we live in seem at odds. Yet, I have experienced moments of anattā, fleeting but equally profound. Growing up in my Parsi high school, where grades were replaced by reflection and mandatory yoga and meditation classes, I was introduced to this idea of letting go of the self. In a Buddhism class, we were encouraged to experience moments of anattā—to release our attachment to the “I” and see ourselves as part of a greater whole. While I cannot say I fully grasped this concept at the time, there were moments when I felt an inexplicable connection to the world around me. That fleeting connection—when the boundaries of “I” dissolve—is what I now recognize as a glimpse of anattā in my own life.
       However, living in the United States, particularly during my time at RISD, that connection often felt weak. In weekly critiques, where each student displayed their work for scrutiny, I was hyper-aware of my sense of separation. While my classmates were critiqued, I couldn’t help but wonder: What about mine? If everyone loves this person’s work, does that mean they dislike mine? Why couldn’t I achieve what they did? Too often, I was trapped in the need to prove my worth, to protect my ideas from being overshadowed. This incessant need to compare—to view others' success as a mirror of my inadequacy—highlighted how deeply entrenched I was in a bounded, ego-driven self.
       This sense of self-importance wasn’t unique to me; it permeated the entire environment. My peers and I have spoken about the unspoken existential tension that lingered during these critiques. Why was it so difficult to celebrate someone else’s creativity without filtering it through the lens of our own work, our own worth? Why did their success feel like a threat to my identity as a creative? In those moments, I couldn’t help but feel that my peers’ success came at the expense of my own, as if their achievements somehow diminished my worth.
       In learning how to weave, I was forced to confront the inherent interdependence of the process. A single thread alone has little value—it is weak, fragile, and directionless. But when woven with others, it becomes something entirely new: a textile that is both strong and complex, greater than the sum of its parts. The act itself demands collaboration—with the materials, the process, and the loom. A thread can’t dominate the weave; it must yield to the rhythm of the loom and the tension of the warp. Each thread contributes to the strength and beauty of the fabric, but only through its interaction with others. When I struggled to balance the tension of the threads, the fabric would buckle or break—a reminder that harmony, not control, is what holds everything together. Looking back, this mirrors what I’ve come to recognize as the essence of collaboration.
        During my critiques at RISD, I often struggled to let go of my ego. My work, my voice—it all felt like an extension of who I was. Criticism, no matter how constructive, felt personal, like an unraveling of my sense of self. If I could revisit those critiques at RISD, I would approach them differently. I wouldn’t sit in silence, stewing in comparison and self-doubt. I would listen more openly. I would celebrate the success of my peers, knowing that their creativity didn’t diminish mine—it enriched it. And perhaps, if we had all approached those critiques with that mindset, we might have built something together that was far greater than the sum of our individual works.
       Weaving continues to remind me that creativity is never about the self alone. It’s about the spaces between threads, the tension that binds them, and the patterns that emerge when we let go of control and allow ourselves to be part of something greater. In those moments when the boundaries of “I” dissolve, creativity becomes not just an act of making, but an act of connection. It’s a lesson I’m still learning, but one I hope to carry with me in every project, every critique, and every interaction.




Video 2:
Sometimes, we are but a single thread, on a much bigger loom. (Video Courtesy of Hammad Abid, Accessed through RISD Digital Commons)

01 — Need for Conscious Creativity


02 — Conscious Creativity Framework


02-A —  The Self
02-B —  The Collective
02-C —  The Environment

03 — Implementing Conscious Creativity


04 — Emergence through Conscious Creativity    


Further Reading: Conscious Leadership   




Colophon:

1. This site, in many ways, is a manifesto of my creative practice. Here, I attempt to understand the process of creation—a process which is inherently relational and emergent—through theory and practice. As most creative endeavors, this project is highly collaborative. A special thanks to all advisors and professors, Anais Missakian, Rashid Zia, Harold Roth, Steven Sloman, Judson Brewer, Larson DiFiori, Lisa Scull, and Anna Gitelson-Kahn; to my friends, especially Dway Lunkad and Ethan Hoskins; and everyone I have ever collaborated with.

2. This site was built using custom HTML/CSS on Cargo Collective, set in Favorit and Arizona Variable typefaces. SAP GREEN and WASH BLUE are used to delineate THEORY and PRACTICE respectively.

3. I try to live by the rule that brevity is generosity. I apologize in advance; this site is anything but brief.




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