December 27, 2021
How to know if you’re following the right creative impulse
One sign is, if your new project feels like all the things you’ve done your whole life are finally leading up to it, then you might be onto something.
If you can zoom out, widening the lens on the entire picture of your career, and everything in your past history and present heart says this new thing is the logical next project for you to pursue, then you should go for it.
But be careful. Because your eyes betray you. Sometimes what feels like the next big thing is just a response to anxiety.
Sometimes what you’re convinced is the single idea that’s going to define your time on earth, is just your ego comparing itself to others and trying to become someone you’re not.
There’s a folder on my computer that contains the original brainstorms for hundreds of creative projects from the last twenty years. Flipping through the documents is simultaneously funny, humiliating, inspiring and nostalgic.
There are treatments for reality television shows, my line of nametag themed greeting cards and merchandise, dozens of book concepts, a local songwriter’s meetup group, a children’s puppet show, various online courses, that cool time lapse video thing, outlines for private weekend retreats, public writing marathons and seminars, coaching and mentoring programs, intellectual property licensing programs, playing card decks, to name a few.
And most of these projects were given their fair shot. Some were pursued and even tested for several months. A few even made a little money.
But honestly, none stuck. None of them generated any pressing or sustainable existential demand that got me excited to get out of bed and move the idea forward.
That’s really what you want in a project. Work that captivates the hell out of you. Work that stretches you to a more courageous and creative place than you’ve ever occupied before.
Without that baseline, it’s going to be hard to stay engaged over the long haul.
My latest endeavor, compared to all the projects in my graveyard of failed ventures, feels different. It’s not like the others. There’s a more mature intention and focused attention behind it.
The timing of it feels right, both emotionally and economically. Hell, everything in my career seems to have been prologue for it.
In fact, back in my brainstorming folder, there’s a running list of subjects my clients and readers have either paid me to teach them, or have asked me to teach them.
Guess what? All of them point to becoming more prolific. Apparently, that’s my thing.
Past history and present heart are on board.
Which idea that fascinates you can turn into something real in the world?