> Since culture is itself a poiesis, all of its participants are poietai—inventors, makers, artists, storytellers, mythologists. They are not, however, makers of actualities, but makers of possibilities. The creativity of culture has no outcome, no conclusion. It does not result in art works, artifacts, products. Creativity is a continuity that engenders itself in others. > > James P. Carse No domain embraces uncertainty more fully than **creativity**. This may seem obvious, even intuitive, yet a vast body of scholarship has explored the intricate relationship between creative thought and the unknown. While I have dedicated an entire chapter to this topic—one that is especially close to my heart—here, I want to highlight a few key insights that underscore the deep connection between uncertainty and creative work. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, former head of the psychology department at the University of Chicago, pointed out that uncertainty and ambiguity are not just obstacles but essential components of all creative endeavours. Creative individuals routinely navigate complex and unpredictable problems, requiring them to take risks, embrace novel ideas, and tolerate the discomfort of the unknown. Csikszentmihalyi argued that highly creative individuals possess a **high tolerance for ambiguity**, allowing them to work within uncertainty rather than against it. He also introduced the concept of **flow**—a state of deep focus and intrinsic enjoyment that arises when a person is fully immersed in an activity. Creativity, he suggested, thrives in this state, where the boundary between challenge and skill dissolves, and engagement with uncertainty becomes effortless.[^1] Carl Gustav Jung framed creativity in more mythic terms, referring to the **daimon**—an inner force that compels individuals toward creative or, at times, destructive pursuits. For Jung, the daimon represented a powerful archetype, a universal symbol of the drive toward individuation, the lifelong process of becoming one’s true self. He believed that this force emerged from the unconscious, manifesting in creative impulses, spiritual experiences, or, when unacknowledged, psychological disorders. Building on Jung’s ideas, thinkers like Rollo May and Stephen A. Diamond described the daimonic as an innate, elemental force present in all individuals, one that could be harnessed creatively or left to fester destructively. They emphasized the importance of accepting and integrating this aspect of the self, particularly for creative individuals, who use their craft to explore and channel this energy constructively.[^2][^3] One of my favorite frameworks for understanding creativity comes from religious scholar and philosopher James P. Carse. He saw creativity as deeply tied to **play**—not in the trivial sense, but as a profound way of engaging with the world. For Carse, play was the foundation of **infinite games**, activities pursued not to win but to perpetuate the game itself. He distinguished between finite games, which have clear rules, endpoints, and winners, and infinite games, which are played for the sheer joy of continuation. Creativity, he argued, belongs to the realm of infinite games. It demands constant adaptation, evolving strategies, and an openness to reimagining the rules themselves. Artists, in this view, are not creators of objects but **creators by way of objects**, their work an invitation to endless reinvention. Creativity is not a thing, nor an act, but a **continuity**—the ongoing, boundless generation of possibility.[^4] Though we recognize creativity through people, their actions, and their artifacts, creativity itself is none of these things. It is not a fixed trait, a singular act, or a static object. Rather, it is a **combinatorial force**—a way of bringing together disparate elements to create something new, of breaking free from habit through originality. To explore and shape new possibilities, one must learn to befriend uncertainty, to cultivate a high tolerance for ambiguity, to remain open to new experiences, and to find comfort in paradox and complexity. In the end, creativity is not about conquering the unknown—it is about dancing with it. [[Uncertainty Continuum|Next page]] <hr> [^1]: Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly (1996). Creativity: Flow and the Psychology of Discovery and Invention. New York: Harper Perennial. [^2]: Jung, C. G. (1991). _The archetypes and the collective unconscious_ (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.; 2nd ed.). Routledge. [^3]: Anger, Madness, and the Daimonic: The Psychological Genesis of Violence, Evil, and Creativity (1996), SUNY Press [^4]: Carse, J. P. (1987). _Finite and infinite games_. Penguin Books.