There’s room for you, too.

April 28, 2017

Ever since I can remember, people have labelled me ‘arty’ or ‘creative’. And it’s a label I wear proudly – its always been a huge part of who I am. But I’ll be honest. Creativity is also a daily struggle.

Someone else could do it better than me. Why is it so much easier for others? What that person is doing has more meaning, more value, than what I’m doing. I don’t have anything to offer. Is anyone even interested?

There is a wall that builds, thought by thought, from the moment I wake up. Sometimes I manage to hop over before it becomes too high. Most days, it feels insurmountable. I could put each brick in that wall down to whether or not I believe I was born with the right talent or skill. But in truth, I don’t believe skill is black and white like that. Skill is acquired through experience, through practice, and through bloody hard work.

No, the true genetic makeup of those bricks is insecurity. A lack of confidence. A fear of being mediocre, or worse, inadequate. Of churning out the same old thing as everyone else.

The digital revolution has enhanced human creativity, opening up new realms of inspiration, collaboration and tools. We can create communities that render borders and time zones irrelevant. We now have easy access to the creativity of different cultures and experiences. But I think it can also enhance creative insecurity. The internet overwhelms and inundates. My five minutes browsing for fun and inspiration suddenly becomes a comparison between what other people have done, and what I haven’t done, can’t do, or don’t have the time to do.

We all know the reality is that the things people put online are carefully chosen, curated and edited (even those oh-my-gosh-look-how-messy-my-kitchen-is posts are moments that someone has chosen to show). And yet, we can’t help comparing that to ourselves in our messy, un-put-together, have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing lowest moments where we don’t want to let anyone see us – because they are the moments that we tend to spend online. I know it, but I still do it. So we look at someone else’s finished work, the sum of many hours, hard work, sweat and effort, and feel dissatisfied when we turn back to our own work in progress.

There’s a quote from a book by Elizabeth Gilbert that I’ve started to copy into the front of my sketchbooks, because of how it has challenged my creative insecurity. Rather than giving me a temporary dose of false self-confidence, it’s shifted my idea of what the creative process is and why we engage with it. It says this: ‘What you produce is not necessarily always sacred, I realised, just because you think its sacred. What is sacred is the time you spend working on the project, and what that time does to expand your imagination, and what that expanded imagination does to transform your life.’ It reminds me that the process, how I am changed and stretched by it and how it changes the way I think, is almost more important. Maybe I’m just slow to the party on this, but its freed me from the pressure to create things that please others.

Creativity shouldn’t be just about hanging out in our comfort zones, always feeling good about ourselves and what we create. It doesn’t even always need to be about the outcome. But it should be fun, and it should be liberating. It’s about the practice, the exploration. That project that didn’t work, that you never showed anyone, that has value beyond what we see. It may not have changed anyone else’s life, but it has changed you. It adds experience, depth, and perspective to your future creative expression.

Primarily, be creative for yourself. Relax. Authenticity will invite others to join in. But enjoy the process even if nobody else gets it. Listen to other people’s stories, then embrace your own. It’s unique, it’s real, and it has meaning. Don’t be afraid to tell it. There’s room for you, too.