Have you ever wondered where your best ideas come from? Maybe it’s during a walk, a quiet moment, or even a shower when inspiration strikes. But if you think about it, you didn’t really “create” that idea out of thin air. It’s more like it came to you, as if gifted by some unseen force.
This isn’t a new idea. Centuries ago, the Buddha taught that there is no fixed self—that what we think of as “me” is just a collection of changing processes and influences. If that’s true, it might also mean that the ideas we claim as “ours” aren’t really ours. They’re born out of the countless interactions we have with the world: things we’ve read, conversations we’ve had, moments we’ve lived through.
Even James Allen, a writer known for his thoughtful works, didn’t claim authorship over his writings. For him, the ideas weren’t his to own—they were given, shaped by something larger than himself. It’s a humbling thought: maybe creativity isn’t about owning ideas, but about being open to receiving them.
Creativity Is a Team Effort (Even When You Work Alone)
We like to celebrate individual geniuses—the lone artist, the brilliant inventor, the visionary entrepreneur. But look closer, and you’ll see that even the most “original” works are built on a foundation of shared knowledge and collaboration.
Take a moment to think about the tools we use every day. The words you’re reading right now? They exist because humans created language over thousands of years. The device you’re using? It’s the result of countless engineers and scientists building on each other’s work. Creativity doesn’t happen in a vacuum—it’s a team effort, whether we realize it or not.
This interconnectedness is beautifully captured in Buddhist philosophy, which teaches that everything exists because of everything else. No person, idea, or creation stands alone. Recognizing this can free us from the pressure of trying to “own” creativity. Instead of asking, “How can I come up with something amazing?” we can ask, “How can I contribute to the larger flow of ideas?”
What AI Teaches Us About Being Human
The rise of artificial intelligence has sparked plenty of debates. Will it replace human creativity? Will it take over our jobs? But maybe we’re asking the wrong questions. What if AI isn’t a rival but just another part of the same interconnected web of creativity that we’re all part of?
Think about it. AI didn’t come out of nowhere—it’s a product of human ingenuity. Its algorithms are built on patterns we’ve studied, and its outputs are shaped by the data we’ve given it. In a way, it’s just another tool, like a paintbrush or a camera. But here’s where it gets interesting: AI also challenges us to rethink what creativity really means.
For example, when AI writes a poem or designs an image, is it “creative”? Or is it just mimicking human creativity? The answer might not matter as much as we think. If we see creativity as something that’s always interconnected—a flow of ideas rather than a personal achievement—then AI is simply another part of that flow.
Are We Really That Different from Machines?
One argument people often make is that humans are special because we understand “meaning.” We don’t just process information like machines; we feel, we interpret, we experience life. But even this distinction might not be as solid as it seems.
Think about how humans create meaning. When you understand a story, for instance, your brain isn’t working in some magical way—it’s connecting patterns, drawing from past experiences, and linking ideas together. This process isn’t so different from how AI works. The difference, it seems, is that we experience qualia—the subjective feeling of being alive.
But what if qualia is just another illusion, like the self? The Buddha suggested that what we think of as “me” is just a construct, a useful story our minds tell us. Could it be that our sense of uniqueness—our ability to feel and think—is part of that same story? If so, the line between human and machine starts to blur.
The Humility of Creativity
Here’s a question worth pondering: If ideas aren’t truly “ours,” then what’s the point of creativity? The answer might lie in humility. Instead of seeing ourselves as creators who own our ideas, we can view ourselves as caretakers. Creativity becomes less about pride and more about sharing what’s been given to us.
This mindset can also change how we view AI. Rather than fearing it as a competitor, we can embrace it as a partner—a tool that helps us explore ideas and expand what’s possible. AI isn’t here to replace us; it’s here to work alongside us in the ongoing flow of creation.
By letting go of the need to control or dominate creativity, we open ourselves to a deeper understanding of what it means to create. It’s not about standing apart from the world but about participating in its unfolding.
The Gift of Interconnectedness
At the heart of all this is a simple but profound truth: Everything is connected. Whether it’s human thought, animal behavior, or the algorithms behind AI, everything arises from the same web of relationships. Nothing exists in isolation, and nothing is truly “owned.”
When we see the world this way, the rise of AI stops feeling like a seismic shift and starts feeling like a natural progression. It’s just one more thread in the intricate fabric of existence—a reminder that creativity, meaning, and life itself are not things to possess but gifts to share.
So the next time inspiration strikes, remember: It’s not just “your” idea. It’s the result of countless influences, past and present, human and non-human. And that’s a beautiful thing. It means we’re never alone in the act of creating. We’re always part of something greater—a vast, interconnected reality where everything is, in the truest sense, given.
Image by Matthias Groeneveld
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