Creators, Creations, and the Web of Interconnectedness

The act of creation is a deeply human pursuit. Whether it is meaningful to me as a writer pouring my heart into the page, the creative process is intrinsically tied to my sense of existence. Yet, what drives me as a creator—what beckons me—all comes down to two fundamental desires: connection and recognition.

I do not create in isolation, but as part of a greater whole. Even when standing alone in the glow of a dim desk lamp, the threads of interconnectedness tether us together. At the core of this web lies a fascinating paradox: we are each unique, yet fundamentally connected to one another and the creations that shape the collective human experience.

There is a profound interplay between creators and our work—how we long for validation, how we are already deeply intertwined, and how fostering community can amplify the beauty of the creative process. By the end, we may find ourself rethinking what it truly means to create and share our art with the world.

There is a curious beauty in the creative process. While our work feels singular and deeply personal, it is, in many ways, a continuation—a conversation, if you will—of what has come before. Writers often echo themes from the past, noting their presence as new portals of awareness into our collective human experience.

Carl Jung referred to this interconnectedness as the “collective unconscious,” a reservoir of shared human experiences that transcends individual boundaries. When we write a poem, craft a character, or spin a narrative, we are drawing from this wellspring, whether consciously or not. Everything we create contains traces of the creators who have come before—the same way rivers flow endlessly back into the ocean.

Consider William Blake, whose poetry was a response to the industrial revolution, its dehumanizing tendencies, and its loss of connection to the natural world. His words were shaped by his time, but they also built upon the works of his predecessors and resonated with the rebellious Romantic spirit of his contemporaries. Today, Blake’s creations continue to ripple through the works of modern artists, who draw inspiration from his vivid imagery and philosophical depth. His art, once an isolated act of creation, became part of the tapestry of human expression—woven into the fabric of our creative consciousness.

Each of us is both a contributor to and beneficiary of this grand network of creation—a reflection of humanity’s shared experiences, shaped as much by the works of others as by our personal visions. This is the essence of interconnectedness.

Despite living within this web of interconnectedness, there is an unspoken longing that resides within every creator, including me, of course—the deep need to be seen, heard, and acknowledged. A question permeates the minds of many creatives like me, regardless of our medium: Is what I am creating meaningful to others?

Validation, for me, is not merely external reinforcement; it serves as a bridge—an affirmation that the hours devoted to my writing was not in vain. It is not vanity but vulnerability that lies at the core of this desire. Every creation reveals a piece of me, an offering shared with the world. To have someone appreciate or resonate with it is to feel understood, to be reminded, yet again, of our shared humanity.

This hunger for acknowledgment is also evolutionary. Connection—both emotional and intellectual—has been our means of survival since the dawn of humanity. Art was how early communities communicated, from the cave paintings of Lascaux to the oral epics that carried cultural lineages. Even today, a well-received piece of work validates the creator’s place within this ongoing dialogue.

Conversely, rejection or indifference often feels like an alienation of self—because, for us as creators, work is more than output; it is identity. But what we often forget is that creating is itself an act of acknowledgment and connection. When I write a story, I am reaching out, leaving traces of myself to be found by others walking the same path.

If we are all inherently connected and driven by a shared desire for recognition, the question becomes, how can we better foster this within the creative community?

  1. Share Openly and Honestly

There is immense power in sharing our process. Show the unpolished drafts, the sketches, and the attempts that didn’t quite work. Vulnerability invites others to open up and find common ground. Platforms like Substack, other social media, and creators’ circles online are excellent venues to build authentic connections by pulling back the curtain on our work.

  1. Celebrate Each Other

A rising tide lifts all boats, as they say. By actively celebrating the work of others, we contribute to a more cohesive and collaborative creative space. Shout out a fellow creative’s project, leave thoughtful comments about what resonated with you, or recommend someone’s work to others. These small acts of engagement forge strong connections.

  1. Offer Collaborative Opportunities

Collaboration between creators does more than pool artistic talent—it strengthens communal bonds. Whether it’s co-writing a story, illustrating a poem, or contributing to a shared anthology, collaborative projects remind us of our interdependence and the beauty of melding perspectives.

  1. Acknowledge the Source

When we inevitably draw inspiration from the works of others, acknowledgment is a vital step toward mutual respect. Whether you’re referencing a lesser-known poet in your blog or remixing an idea, giving credit demonstrates awareness of your place within the creative ecosystem.

5. Create a Safe Space for Feedback

The comments section for our Substack posts should be a safe and liberally used spaces for acknowledgments. Critique circles and workshops are excellent ways to provide constructive feedback while fostering lasting relationships. When creators feel safe sharing their work in progress, they will likely reciprocate and extend that trust back into the community.

6. Practice Empathy

Finally, by understanding the deeply human emotionality that underpins creative work—its triumphs, insecurities, and vulnerabilities—we can extend greater kindness to one another. Empathy is the bedrock of any creative partnership or community.

Ultimately, creativity is connection. Through our work, we dip into the collective consciousness, reshaping pieces of it into something new. While the search for recognition and validation is universal, recognizing our intrinsic interconnectedness can alleviate our existential fears.

Creating isn’t a solitary act. Every word or note we craft reverberates through the experiences of others, echoing in ways we might not even see. The more we, as creators, lean into this truth—fostering mutual understanding and lifting one another—the richer and more fulfilling our journeys become.

I’d love to hear how interconnectedness has shaped your process. Whether it’s a story of collaboration, recognition, or even a unique perspective that has influenced your art, please share your creative experiences with me..

Because, at the end of the day, we’re all a part of the same story—

interwoven and

Infinite.


Bruce

I am 69 years old, and I am a retired person. I began writing in 2016. I am married to Sharon White, a retired hospice nurse, and writer. Whose Death Is It Anyway-A Hospice Nurse Remembers Sharon is a wonderful friend and life partner of nearly 30 years. We have three grandsons through two of Sharon's children. I am not a published writer or poet. My writings are part of my new life in retirement. I have recently created a blog, and I began filling it up with my writings on matters of recovery and spirituality. I saw that my blog contained enough material for a book, so that is now my new intention, to publish a book, if only so that my grandsons can get to know who their grandfather really was, once I am gone. The title for my first book will be: Penetrating The Conspiracy Of Silence, or, How I Lived Beyond My Expiration Date I have since written 7 more books, all of which are now posted on this site. I have no plans to publish any of them, as their material is not of general interest, and would not generate enough income to justify costs. I have taken a deep look at life, and written extensively about it from a unique and rarely communicated perspective. Some of my writing is from 2016 on to the present moment. Other writing covers the time prior to 1987 when I was a boy, then an addict and alcoholic, with my subsequent recovery experience, and search for "Truth". Others are about my more recent experiences around the subjects of death, dying, and transformation, and friends and family having the most challenging of life's experiences. There are also writings derived from my personal involvement with and insight into toxic masculinity, toxic religion, toxic capitalism, and all of their intersections with our leadere. These topics will not be a draw for all people, as such personal and/or cultural toxicities tends to get ignored, overlooked, or "normalized" by those with little time for insight, introspection, or interest in other people's points of view on these troubling issues. There also will be a couple of writings/musings about "GOD", but I try to limit that kind of verbal gymnastics, because it is like chasing a sunbeam with a flashlight. Yes, my books are non-fiction, and are not good reading for anybody seeking to escape and be entertained. Some of the writings are spiritual, philosophical and intellectual in nature, and some descend the depths into the darkest recesses of the human mind. I have included a full cross section of all of my thoughts and feelings. It is a classic "over-share", and I have no shame in doing so. A Master Teacher once spoke to me, and said "no teacher shall effect your salvation, you must work it out for yourself". "Follow new paths of consciousness by letting go of all of the mental concepts and controls of your past". This writing represents my personal work towards that ultimate end.