In the pursuit of creativity

How many times have you looked at a friend or loved one in a moment of eureka, and said: "ooh! we should do that!"...but, then don't? For me, it was too many to count.

I was an idea machine, that never stopped churning- but rarely produced anything tangible. I'd have giant waves of inspiration, rather frequently, that were intoxicating to ride while they lasted, but then they'd crest way before reaching the shore, leaving me sort of confused and tired on the beachhead not knowing how to get back on. Any creative spirit (or surfer) knows that, once a killer wave peters out, once the barrel closes, it's impossible to get back on the same one. You can get back out into the surf, but you'll be riding on a different wave.

My unproductive creativity quirk has been one of the more frustrating - and elusive - facets of my personality to come to terms with. But when you're in the chaos of working and mom'ing and wife'ing and coping and excelling (sorta), it's easy to excuse your passiveness. It doesn't take long to get sort of comfy watching all those beautiful little ideas flit out from your brain and then quickly fly the coop. It is an odd bittersweetness: watching your big, bold, colorful thoughts and ideas float away from you. On one hand, you're proud of yourself for birthing them in the first place - you get a bit self-congratulatory about your brilliance. On the other hand, you're deeply sad to see them dissolve before they had a chance to come to life - you get a bit depressed about your capacity for killing your darlings so dispassionately.

I am far from a lazy person, but I do like to hedge my bets. In other words, I do not enjoy spending precious time on things that won't have a positive yield. For example, I stubbornly refuse to journal (despite knowing the benefits) because I tell myself: what's the point if no one is ever going to read it? Why would I pour my heart out into a book that I'd probably need to burn so as to avoid hurt feelings if ever discovered? Or, why would I write a book manuscript when the odds of it ever getting published are nearly non-existent? It's a negative, unhelpful, avoidant cycle. And that type of self-talk is precisely what has caused my frustrating creative block all these years.

However, I have recently had the epiphany that with creative pursuits, the calculus is different. It's true - you have absolutely no promise of success. But that's not why you're doing them to begin with. Somewhere along the way I had forgotten that part. I had removed myself - along with all the potential joy, happiness, release I would get - entirely from the equation. I had simply forgotten that the whole 'doing things because you enjoy them' thing was even an option. It is common sense, I realize, but it took me a while to stop believing that everything needs to have an immediate payoff or lead to something bigger and better. Realistically and statistically, in fact, most things won't - but that doesn't make them any less valuable or meaningful or worth doing.

To sum it up for all my corporate peeps: I had ruthlessly prioritized myself out of the strategic agenda of my life. An immediate re-alignment of goals needed to occur to optimize future success and ensure sustainability. 

This is an extremely long-winded way of sharing that, due to this sudden enlightenment, I finally did something I had long wanted to do, but was too self-critical and negative to even try.

I started a podcast. I know -- exactly what the world needed! You're welcome. Well, I'm not actually doing it alone. I am doing it besides one of my best friends in the universe and mentors and life gurus (who also happens to be my un-aging Aunt) Mary Arconti Gregory, CFRE. Together, we are trying to break down the barriers that exist between generations in a way that makes us laugh, brings us joy, and (that, in best case scenario) forges connections even amidst conflict, confusion, and controversy.

It's called The XYZ - and we're having a blast. Give the first few episodes a listen, especially if you enjoy the idea of sitting alongside two unabashedly inexperienced podcasters as they have fun trying to decode the decades that lie between us. If the idea of adding one more podcast to your queue is nauseating, I understand and forgive you. Hell, the idea of making a podcast and then actually announcing it to my professional community also made me nauseous not that long ago.

But here I am, just doing stuff that makes me happy, and I couldn't recommend it more.