As these words bled out of my pen during my Morning Pages this morning, I felt a rush of energy ripple through my body, the pulse of tears in my eyes.
"I’ve been starving myself to feel others.”
This year I set the intention to be cracked open by the Universe.
To say “yes” to the doors that open naturally for me instead of trying to force my way through ones that stubbornly refuse to budge.
In real-life terms, this has translated to taking on a lot of creative work for others.
Content creation. Copywriting. A lot of “doing” work.
People asked if I could help them. I said yes.
Financially, this means my bank account is looking the healthiest it has done for a while… great, right?
My creative reserves however are in a state of consistently being drained in service of those who are paying me.
(I want to make something clear before we carry on here, I am not complaining about this in any way. The work is rewarding and being in the trenches of business building & client attraction for others is teaching me so much more than simply learning “marketing theory” ever could!)
But in doing this work, an old pattern from my days as a full-time employee has re-emerged.
It’s the same pattern that led to me passing out mid-commute on a London tube during a particularly brutal stint on a movie that shall remain unnamed.
It’s the pattern where the thing you’re getting paid for takes priority over everything else.
The one where breaks, joy and pleasure are earned… not freely available.
Where the happiness and satisfaction of the one who’s paying you takes precedence over your own.
(Again, to re-iterate… this is all a reflection of ME and my patterns. Not my clients! These behaviours are self-inflicted, not a result of their expectations or communication.)
The self-awareness I’ve developed over the past few years (which is also gifted by my Morning Pages–3 pages of stream of consciousness journalling) means I’ve noticed this pattern in a way I haven’t before.
You see, for the past few weeks, I’ve been taking my near-constant anxiety as a sign of my weakness.
As a clear indication that I lack the resilience needed to work professionally with others. My creative sensitivities and constant worry about having to creatively perform on demand, means that maybe I’m not good enough? Maybe I’m deluded about my writing ability? Surely other “creatives for hire” don’t feel this amount of discomfort within them working for other people? It must mean I’m not cut out for this. I’m no good for anything…
*ahem*
It’s quite embarrassing to admit that these are the thoughts swirling around my subconscious… but please don’t interpret these as a request for validation from anyone else to tell me otherwise.
Because that gaping emptiness I’ve been feeling within me? That knot in my stomach?
I’ve been reading it wrong.
It’s not about the work I’m doing. It’s about the work I’m not doing.
It’s a crippling hunger for my own creative self-expression.
An unmet craving to spend time expressing my own ideas as well as the ideas of others.
Over the past 6 years of running my own business, I’d forgotten that I could just create for the JOY of it.
That every piece of creative output does not need to be linked to a strategic business goal.
And I think this is a fundamental lesson that The Artist’s Way has been teaching me about who I am.
I am an Artist first.
A business owner second.
My business exists to serve my Art. Not the other way around.
For some, this isn’t the case and that’s perfect too.
We all choose the path of entrepreneurship and self-employment for different reasons and not a single one of them is better or more “valid” than the other.
But I’d forgotten the reason I handed my notice in 6 years ago.
So this piece of writing is an offering to myself, and also to you too.
And to my fellow Artist’s, don’t forget to feed yourself.
Our culture of capitalism and commodification won’t tell you to do it.
Your parents who grew up also being told worth = work won’t tell you to do it.
But I will.
You do not need to earn rest or play, but you do need to claim it.
So gift yourself a morning, a moment or a morsel of creative freedom and refuse to feel guilt about doing so.
You deserve it, my friend. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, even yourself.
I promise you, even just a mouthful of creative nourishment makes everything else taste sweeter.
Sending you love,
