Some Contemplations on Creativity

Photo by Andrew Neel: https://www.pexels.com/photo/macbook-pro-on-brown-wooden-table-2312369/

I’m writing a book, and I’m realizing there’s a good reason why I’ve never finished such a project before:

It’s hard!

And that’s a tough truth to swallow, especially since the traps of comparison, people-pleasing, and perfectionism persist in my life.

Creativity is highly romanticized in our culture, lumped in these days—unfortunately—with heightened states of glorious, playlist-fed productivity, a term that everyone seems to have a different definition for. And the reality is online creators and influencers are the hippest celebrities of today. (Who’d’a thunk it?)

All you have to do to get famous is be seen on a screen and have a bunch of people watch or read your thing. You can read a social media or blog post or watch a video in a matter of seconds or minutes, but guess what? Somebody probably put hours or days into making that thing. Or at least, the people who actually make high-quality content did. Brainrot—one of my favorite Gen-Z/Alpha slang terms—tends to be a lot easier to produce because it makes TikTok and Meta a ton of money.

But now, I’m facing the long hours ahead of me, and the blank page mocks me—a perpetual writer problem.

There’s also an irony here I have to face: it’s “easier” than ever to be creative. More tools and technology ready for mass creation are available to us than in any other time in human history, and it shows.

Computers and smartphones are miracle machines that would make Gutenberg’s eyes bug out. And the proliferation of printed and electronic texts and images full of all forms of information and imitation make it ridiculously easy to find inspiration for “content.” In fact, “content” is such a common and all-encompassing buzzword now that my first full-time job several years ago was not as a “writer”, but as a “content writer.”

So why is creativity still so hard? Why, when trillion-dollar companies constantly compete to make the latest and greatest “everyman’s productivity machines”, does creativity still feel like such a burden (albeit a meaningful one)?

Because the work still has to be done! I still have to make room in my schedule. I still have to pick up the tools and make creative decisions. I still have to put in the sweat and tears (hopefully no blood, though papercuts aren’t out of the equation).

Tools can help, but I have to aim and pull the trigger—and no, AI chatbots ain’t coming on this journey. Unfortunately, it’s so much easier to just go down another internet rabbit hole and lose all sense of time and purpose.

In fact, I think that may be the biggest obstacle I’m facing: the decision of one thing over another. Writing words over wading into the warm and welcoming world of endless entertainment. Creativity over consumption. Faith over fear.

If I want to write and actually finish this book, I have to make more changes than just giving up videogames for a year (I already miss them). I have to focus more on the task than the tools, more on the mountain I’m climbing than on the marketing and memery—no, that’s not a typo—that surround me.

And darn it, I want to enjoy the journey in the meantime!

I’m facing a lifestyle change that may need to become permanent if I’m to finish this year-long challenge. That scares me. But that’s probably a good thing, because it likely means it’s a thing that’s worth doing.

Now, I’m not giving up all “consumption”. Every creative person has to have sources to draw from. “Steal like an artist,” and all that, as creator/influencer Austin Kleon teaches. I’m just going to have to be far more selective in my choice of content. I’ll have to curate my objects of concentration a little more intentionally. And I need to do it sooner than later, like loading the dishwasher immediately after dinner rather than waiting ‘til the end of the night.

One thing’s for sure, I’m not about to let a blinking cursor or an empty journal page keep blowing razzberries at me.

This almost feels like the story I told several weeks ago about learning to swim in deep water as a teenager: I just have to dive in and go. Let the water engulf me, struggle a little, and hopefully discover a new joie de vivre in the meantime. And, of course, ask for help when I need it.

I’d say wish me luck, but what I really need is prayer. ‘Preciate it.