This is the last post in a series inspired by Big Magic by Liz Gilbert. Read the Intro, Courage, Enchantment, Permission and Persistence.
I’ve believed a lie for most of my life. In fact, it’s only as I’ve read Big Magic that I’ve seen just how big this lie is. And I think there might be a chance you believe it too:
Creativity means you’re good at art.
Creative people write, paint, dance, draw or sing well. Creative people come up with new ideas and get them out in unique ways. I think there’s always a qualitative value attached to the word “creative”. In fact, we often think the word is synonymous with another word: “talent”.
So I’ve never considered myself “creative”. I guess I can write decently, but I would never say I’m talented at it. I just like it enough to do it often and hope the outcome is somewhat decent.
But when it comes to creativity, the outcome doesn’t matter.
That’s been a jarring thought for me.
As cliché as this is going to sound (and it hurts to write this), creativity is about the journey, not the outcome. I really had never considered this before.
Creativity is about the act of creating, not about what is created. The magic lies in the act not in the what.
And “fierce trust” is required to keep creating when an outcome isn’t guaranteed.
“Fierce trust asks you to stand strong within this truth: ‘You are worthy, dear one, regardless of the outcome. You will keep making your work, regardless of the outcome. You will keep sharing your work, regardless of the outcome. You were born to be creative, regardless of the outcome. You will never lose trust in the creative process, even when you don’t understand the outcome.’” – Liz Gilbert, Big Magic
So I might create things that are decent. I might create things that are horrible. I might create things that I think are decent, but everyone else thinks are horrible.
But I have to trust that the magic is in the creating, not in the created. I have to trust that God works through me while I create just as much, if not more, than He works through what I create.
Because it’s fun. Because I learn. Because I want to create things. Because creating feels different than everything else.
Linds, this is what I did with our vlog of NYC last spring. I ended up with terrible footage. It was really difficult to hear the audio half the time and I didn’t remember to film the other half of the time. But didn’t we have a lot of laughs trying to tell our story to an invisible audience? Thanks for this insight and encouragement to keep working towards failures in the name of creating.
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