How am I supposed to feel creative when I’m not creating anything original?
“But in order to try something in life, you probably have to be exposed to someone who makes you think, Whoa. I want to be cool like them! Everyone knows “cool” is the ultimate life motivator, for better or worse.”
The only reason creativity coaches exist is because creativity is… kinda scary sometimes. When you’re being creative, you’re putting some part of your insides on the outside. Out there, where people can see it.
I know I’m sweating thinking about it!
It’s vulnerable to trust our creative process and to share our creative products.
(Can we just take a moment to remind ourselves of this? Creativity is not for the weak. It’s inherently uncertain and vulnerable.)
As soon as it perceives vulnerability, the brain goes into safety protocol. “Not today!” it says, and starts up whatever thought pattern it knows will sideline your DreadedDangerousTerrifying urge to create something.
“The moment you feel that, just possibly, you’re walking down the street naked, exposing too much of your heart and your mind and what exists on the inside, showing too much of yourself. That’s the moment you may be starting to get it right.”
Your brain just wants to help.
One of fear-brain’s tactics is to lovingly hold our work to a standard like “originality.” “If you’re going to justify this time spent on what you like doing, you’d better make good stuff! And original work is good,” might be the Story Protocol it runs.
I know, your brain is so proud of itself at how reasonable it is. It’ll tell you it’s being helpful (and it’s trying,) but what actually happens? It “helps” you into making nothing at all. But at least you’re not being vulnerable!
“Most of us only find our own voices after we’ve sounded like a lot of other people.”
Look, I don’t want to stifle your brain, and I don’t want to assume that it’s making things up. Maybe it’s right, maybe it’s not…You need to discern for yourself whether its comments about originality come from a place of loving support or fear of vulnerability. That’s all. It might be that your standard of originality is really healthy for where you’re at in your creative journey. That’s awesome! But if it’s keeping you stuck, then it’s time to investigate–read on for a little guidance to get started.
Here’s the question I want you to ask:
Just how original does something need to be to be called “original?”
Like, is there an objective measurable standard? Do you have a standard? Where did it come from, if you do?
What do you want to do with your answer?
(Take what time you need with that. Really notice what comes up.)
Now, would you try to hold a dear friend to this standard?
“We seek out the safe harbor of being completely original as another place to hide, because it’s impossible to be original.”
If you would, great, then your standard for originality is supporting you and I want you to keep going. (The aptly titled Keep Going by Austin Kleon has a ton of practical ways to do this.)
If you wouldn’t want to hold your friend to that standard of originality, then your standard for originality might be about something else, some way of protecting you from a fear.
Sometimes, fear-brain keeps us in self-denial, as in, we deny the Self what it craves, which is to have fun and make something neat. It’s not kind to tell your Self it has to be “original” if you don’t even know what that means or if you don’t agree with the standard.
But hey, at least you don’t have to be vulnerable?
“I think every outline has already been written. But each human has a unique fingerprint. Just putting your fingerprint on an outline makes it yours, different, unique. And through practice and vulnerability, you make that fingerprint something others want to see.”
I’ve seen two common ways that an unhelpful pressure to be original completely stops creative flow. It’s worth getting radically honest and seeing if one of these things is happening:
Have you taken the time to study your craft by copying? If you’re going to add your spin to what has come before, you have to understand what has come before, even if taking this time is frustrating. What’s that frustration about? What would be more helpful to tell yourself instead?
Are you spending a lot of time in the copying phase, kinda sorta actually on purpose so you don’t have to start taking the risks that come with trying something new? What do you need to tell yourself to support you in doing a scary thing?
“The human hand is incapable of making a perfect copy…our failure to copy our heroes is where we discover where our own thing lives.”
Here’s how you know you’re getting somewhere with your creativity: You feel a little scared.
Remember that creating involves putting something from your inside out there, where people can see it. It’s that part of you that you keep on your insides that’s the most unique, the closest to who you most truly and deeply are. Of course you protect that. It’s precious!
It’s also the part that puts the magic in what you make with it.
“We become original because we become something specific: an origin from which work flows.”
Look, all I’m asking is for you to do what scares you.
I know that’s a big deal. Like I said, this is why creativity coaching exists, because being creative requires facing fear. Now, don’t go so crazy that you completely shut down. Just stretch a little, then a little more. You can do that.
There are lots of books out there on creativity; I’ve read a lot of them, and still I’ll never get to them all. This tells me that there’s a whole slew of people working through the fear of being creative. They’re out there, and maybe you can meet some of them and support each other? In the meantime, check out any of the books I quote in this article.** (Yes, it’s a lot of quotes…but is the point taken, that lots of people deal with this?)
“If you’re not prepared to be wrong, you’ll never come up with anything original.”
And of course, there’s coaching. When I work with clients, I show them how they can completely re-relate to their fear, and actually enlist its support in getting the things they dream of. Yes, this is a thing, enlisting fear to help you, and that’s available to you.
One of the biggest dangers of giving in to art is that our values might change--or return to an earlier, simpler form. The perfect house, the right furniture, the great job, the hip clothes: Maybe those things don't represent our heart's desires the way we thought. Maybe we'll learn something about ourselves that we didn't particularly want to know. Or maybe people will laugh at us. Maybe we won't appear the way we'd like to appear.
Worse yet:Maybe we won't be any good at what we love.
And yet, those who indulge their talents so lavishly attract us all...This hard work, dedication to craft, and willingness to persevere as the learning curve gains intensity is undeniably attractive. Maybe that's in part because such qualities are rare these days.
—Bernadette Murphy, Zen and the Art of Knitting
**(Did you notice what I did here today? I took concepts from a bunch of different sources and brought them together and sprinkled on my own spin. I decided it was “original enough.”)