I went through music school and came out 4 years later believing I hated creating.
Yikes. I’d invested so much time, energy, and money in refining and perfecting my craft – and now it felt like my efforts had been in vain. Was it possible that the only purpose of my college education was to study a craft and eventually conclude I disliked it?
My outward actions seemed to affirm that I didn’t enjoy creating anymore. Writing songs was an absolute chore, never a catharsis, my emotions seemingly stilted and static whenever I tried to exercise creativity.
I didn’t want to touch the piano. Practicing irritated me because I never heard improvement. I felt trapped within my own limitations, unable to escape the pit of constant self-criticism.
Even singing, one of my early childhood joys, became simply another means of repeatedly attempting to achieve perfection to the point where I was beginning to edge towards vocal damage from the consistent over-practicing.
And yet, throughout it all, I still loved music.
I loved simply listening and letting every emotion, unable to be conveyed by mere words, wash over me. I loved the places music took me, the imagination it sparked within me, the way it lifted my soul.
So why then did I feel this deep passion for music, yet whenever I attempted to create something of my own, I felt like it became my worst enemy?
I began to realize something about myself.
The truth was, I didn’t hate creating. I hated what it was doing to my sense of self-worth, perspective, and sense of joy.
When I compared how I felt just listening to music and how I felt composing music, I discovered three core aspects that discouraged me from creating:
- “I am unable to create anything new, groundbreaking, or novel. Everything has already been done.”
This phrase has halted me countless times from engaging in any creativity. And in some sense, it’s not inaccurate. Truthfully, most things have been done before at some point. After all, we consistently build upon the ideas and material of those who came before us. Stumbling upon a brand new and groundbreaking concept is admittedly rather rare. However, we must consider this:
There is only one you.
There has never been a person who thinks like you, has the same personality as you, has the same quirks, ideas, beliefs, and dreams that you do. You are unique.
This isn’t a clichéd ideal to be shoved aside in favor of more “practical” ideas. No, this concept of uniqueness is incredibly important to finding our self-worth in creativity.
When we discover that we are unique individuals – no one like us has existed before or ever will again – we begin to understand how beautifully unique our creativity is.
As a musician, I can play the exact same song as another musician and still have it sound completely different. My own individualism will naturally shine through the music, creating something new despite the fact that it “had already been done.”
This means that additionally, we needn’t feel trapped by not living up to expectations we feel have been set by other artists. The truth is, we will never sound like the artists we admire and frankly, we really shouldn’t. We are our own artists and our own experiences will shape, mold, and grow our creativity into something unique. The sooner we embrace this idea as creatives, the sooner we can feel free to create without feeling like inferiors and failures.
- “I am afraid of the response.”
This issue of wanting acclaim for our creativity is difficult to wrestle with. We all want to connect with others, to share a deep part of ourselves, to reach out and have someone respond and accept us as we are.
It isn’t a bad thing to desire this.
Although we can fight this desire, saying to ourselves “I don’t care what other people think,” it many times is painfully true that we really do care deeply. But again, this doesn’t have to be detrimental – in fact it’s only natural. We were created to desire to mean something, to want to have significance in the lives of those around us.
However, the dark side of wishing for acclaim is when we take this natural desire too far. It’s when we let our desire for acclaim turn into a hunger, letting it consume us until it paralyzes us. At the very worst, this fear of “what will they think?” sucks away our joy and leaves us only with anxiety and emptiness.
In some of my worst performances as a musician, I’ve noticed a common thread running through these less than satisfying moments – I was only thinking of the audience response. Their reactions meant so much to me, that the integrity of the art and the emotions it evoked within me lost its appeal. The art itself would become swallowed by my own desire for acclaim and the fear that I wouldn’t ever reach the standards set by others and myself.
I believe finding balance is paramount in this situation. We should cherish the moments of encouragement when we find someone connecting with our work, letting it spur us on to continue our creative journey. Additionally, we should humbly accept criticism when it is given to us, letting it motivate and inspire us to continue developing our craft.
But we should never let these swirling words overshadow the real, true reason we are creating. When we let others’ opinions define us and choke us with fear, we forget that creating is a unique expression of our souls that brings us satisfaction on its own.
- “Being creative is unimportant in the world.”
This is the biggest deterrent and hindrance for creating, and one that has plagued me continually.
Yet the truth is, expressing our creativity is possibly one of the most important things in the world.
After all, humanity was made in the image of Someone who decided to create the most intricately complex, astounding universe. Our world is a dizzying example of creativity at its finest and most important.
Expressing our creativity is what connects us all together and the way we let others into that unique part of our souls. Creating causes us to actively choose to become vulnerable, choose to let our walls down, choose to show the world the purest, deepest part of who we are. This choice is what helps us understand more about ourselves, even when we don’t realize it in the creation process, and unspokenly communicates our willingness to open our lives in a gesture of genuineness.
So after I’ve reflected upon all of these concepts, do I suddenly now feel inspired day after day? Absolutely not.
The process of finding one’s self as an artist is a path filled with peaks and valleys. There won’t ever be an easy, magical cure to finding confidence in creativity.
In fact, I may feel inspired one day but completely depressed the next, tempted to trash everything I’ve worked on, throw my hands up, and wonder if any of it even matters. But there will also be days when I truly experience how beautiful a gift it is to be able to create.
I still don’t understand what I’m doing, where I’m going, or who I should be as an artist. But that’s the beauty of it all – that my life has been planned by Someone who cares deeply for me and instilled my desires of creativity for a very specific reason.
Your creations matter. You matter. And when we start to understand this concept, the world changes.
“God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” – Eric Liddell
This is What Happens When I Think Too Much 