Creative Suffering
I recall participating in a group contest. The deadline was coming to an end, and as no suggestions were on the table, I kept suffering for lack of ideas (or lack of initiative to come up with them). One night, I could not fall asleep as I kept having these images of how the project was going to look like. I got up, grabbed a notebook, and scribbled an 8-page script. We did not win the contest. The idea was, surely, not the best. And I moved on.
I used to enjoy the concept of creative suffering. I felt it while writing some blog posts, crafting a video, or doing something different. It felt right — you must "suffer" to create something valuable. Suffering, creating, releasing, and moving on. This was, more or less, the process.
Turns out the first step was doing more harm than good. How can I feel motivated to write when I'm expecting it to be painful? It wasn't painful every time, but when it was, it kinda made sense.
Elizabeth Gilbert, the best-selling author of "Eat, Pray, Love", writes about the creative process in the book "Big Magic." This was an eye-opening one for me.
#1 Realize you're not going to save the world.
The Ego hates it, but let's face it. It gets difficult to create when we expect to create something so meaningful and perfect, that everyone will be touched by it. Ouch, it never happens. Instead, if we accept that what we create is just something to be released and soon forgot, it gets easier. You don't need to save the world. Just create, and move on.
Oscar Wilde described the life of an artist as “one long, lovely suicide.” Sorry, but I'm out of the Romeo and Juliet type of thing. It does not sound fun to live a deadly romance every time you create something.
You're not a freaking martyr. You're a creator.
#2 Give yourself permission.
I can be a creation machine. I write blog posts. I craft scripts. I make videos. I take photos. I do a lot.
But at other times, I become this walking-failure, who can't even sit for 20 minutes and write a few crappy paragraphs. I get into this rut where I'm aware of the numerous reasons why everything I create sucks. And so, as a rational human being, or as I pretend to be one, I avoid everything that requires my dysfunctional creativity.
Gilbert highlights the importance of permitting yourself to create. Forget failure, rejection, or imposter-syndrome. Create for the sake of creating, and leave it as it is. Accept your identity as a creator and do it.
“Argue for your limitations and you get to keep them.”
James Clear, the author of Atomic Habits, leans into the necessity of establishing an identity to commit to a new habit. Instead of defining "I will take 100 photos every month", start with who you want to be: "I am a photographer." Great, now match your actions to your identity.
#3 You don't need a degree.
After giving yourself permission to create, you're free to do it painlessly. I mean, after getting the degree, of course. Wrong.
Forget the diploma and establish your identity as a writer, a photographer, a dancer, a cook, or a musician. We all benefit from learning, and classrooms can be a great opportunity to improve and get some accountability, but it's not a requirement.
I get it. It's easier to embrace being a filmmaker after attending film school. Regardless, nome of those factors should prevent you from doing your craft. You don't need a "serious" (and expensive) education to express yourself creatively.
“If I am not actively creating something, then I am probably actively destroying something.”
It has been almost 2 weeks since I wrote a paragraph. I'm glad I did it today. I miss the creative process every time I get away from it. It is a mess, but I don't regret it.