I'm doing quite well in the "creative economy" so I'm not complaining--I know many people would be thrilled to do what I do and be paid for it.
Still, I feel dissatisfied, because I never seem to have time or energy left over for my own work. I have to admit that what looks like such creative employment doesn't actually feel that creative to me.
Maybe someday I'll find a way to explore my more experimental ideas. For now, I don't want to throw away a good thing in favor of an impractical urge. But it eats at me to be always putting off my real inspiration.
Still, I feel dissatisfied, because I never seem to have time or energy left over for my own work. I have to admit that what looks like such creative employment doesn't actually feel that creative to me.
Maybe someday I'll find a way to explore my more experimental ideas. For now, I don't want to throw away a good thing in favor of an impractical urge. But it eats at me to be always putting off my real inspiration.
If Not Now, When?
Dear Not Now,
Your non-complaint might be a mild case of a grass-is-greener gizmo, a relative of the infamous procrasto-gizmo, and an old friend of mine, too.
Your non-complaint might be a mild case of a grass-is-greener gizmo, a relative of the infamous procrasto-gizmo, and an old friend of mine, too.
grass-is-greener gizmo (gig-giz): Derived from expression "The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." A network of beliefs that puts your good (happiness, fufillment, creativity, etc) on the other side of some metaphorical fence you can't get over, such as into a future that never comes.
Despite its built-in frustration, this mental habit can bring on a touching, even a heroic sense of longing. It belts out To Dream the Impossible Dream with full orchestra accompanyment. A gig-giz is a tragic drama in which nothing can ever happen.
The gig-giz loves stories that start with "If only..." Yours says, "If only I could explore my experimental ideas, then I'd really feel creative". This is identical (in form, not content) to what you imagine those people are thinking who would gladly trade places with you. Their gig goes: "If only I could do something creative like that and be paid for it..."
Sometimes a gig-giz runs on out-and-out envy (if only I had that one's talent or that one's trust fund). Envy is one of the seven deadlies--and it is deadly: it kills gratitude and presence.
Have you ever believed the content of an "if only..." and discovered when you got it that it didn't actually bring what you were sure it would? But the gig-giz pattern is unfazed when its prediction is proven wrong. It just comes up with new content.
The grass really might be greener on that other side; the gig-giz could be right this time. But you won't know until you get there (if then). And in the meantime, you're hosting a parasite on your happiness. Of course it eats at you to be always putting off your real inspiration. That's what a gig-giz does: it puts off your real life. Inspiration, peace and freedom always happen now, in the present, in the current circumstances, on this side of the fence.
I hear that your present circumstances include this dissatisfaction. What if you let dissatisfaction be here, since it already is here? It won't help to think, "If only I didn't have this if only story going on, then I'd be present and happy...." What if you even welcomed this gig-giz as part of the mix, just for now, without believing it or trying to solve it?
Supposing you took just one step towards exploring those inspiring experimental ideas. One modest, little, attainable step: the first one. What could you start, right here in real life, in an hour? How about in 10 minutes? You might remember what you love about those ideas, and the urge you had to get to know them. Or maybe not--and that could be helpful to find out. You might get a completely new idea of what to do next, and simply follow it for its own sake.You might or might not feel creative, whatever that means to you. But you would already be being creative; it's simple.
Does the mental pattern rush in to say, "Oh, no that won't work, it's not nearly enough, I'd have to take off full-time for months to really get into it." Just notice. Hear the swell of the orchestra signaling what a Really Big Impossible Deal this is. Turning down the volume on the Big Deal, see if you agree with the content. If so, what small, realistic step might you take to get full-time-for-months off? (Go on line and look up grants? Open a new savings account and tithe 10% of your income towards a sabbatical?)
If you didn't believe the smoke and mirrors of gizmo-world, where your good appears out of reach, you might see that the grass right here is vividly green. Maybe there are fresh possibilities in your current employment that you hadn't noticed while you were gazing over your fence. And you might be more likely to take actual, inspired steps on your "own work" if you weren't convinced that you have to wait for a mythic future when your time and energy will be freed up. Without gizmos eating at you, you could be very suprised how much energy becomes available.
The Source that creativity flows from is unconditional--it doesn't require more time or energy or money or anything. When your mind gives up calculating and dictating the terms of your fufillment, there might be a break in the clouds where happiness bursts through, not later, but now. You can't predict it or own it. It's untamed and unknown, this grace. There are no fences here, where you can't help but create because it's your nature.
Thanks for writing.
Cheers,
Jude
PS You're in good company. Shakespeare had similar trouble.
His solution? Remember Love.
Sonnet 29
When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon my self and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate,
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
William Shakespeare
