Yes, And...: Embracing Inspiration and Overcoming Desperation in the Creative Process

From Frenetic Creation to Purposeful Expression

There exist two distinct categories of goals: those born from inspiration, and those forged in the furnace of desperation.

During moments when I'm grappling with a sense of deficiency—be it financial constraints, the fleeting nature of time, or any other personal challenge—I often find myself driven to a state of frantic creation. This compulsion to 'panic create' emerges as a knee-jerk response to the pressing issues at hand.

A hallmark of creation fueled by desperation is my ability to rapidly conceive a marketing plan for a new idea within an hour, erect a website in just a day, and yet, by evening, find myself beleaguered by headaches or body aches. 

I operate under a fever of desperation, harboring the belief that such intense, frenetic effort will get me out of my latest predicament. While productive in the short term, (and dopamine inducing), it’s often underscored with urgency that is short lived. 

But soon after, whether it's an hour, a day, or a week later, I look back at what I've done and often realize it doesn't really match who I am now.

When I create out of desperation, I often find myself drawing from an outdated version of myself, neglecting the fact that I've entered a new stage in my creative journey that requires patience.

Patience: The hardest thing in the world for me.

On the flip side, creating from inspiration makes me feel complete. My ego steps back, allowing me to blend new ideas with old ones seamlessly. During these inspired moments, I give myself the freedom to explore, letting the process unfold naturally. For example, a song might take a week to come together, with each day adding a fresh layer, tweaking a verse, or inventing a new bridge.

In this space, there's a sense of both confidence and skill.

The challenge with creating from inspiration is that you often don't have a clear understanding of its purpose. How will this small piece contribute to the grand mosaic of your life?

There are times when the significance of that piece remains unclear for months, or even years. It requires a remarkable level of faith, and some people are naturally more adept at maintaining this faith than others.

I've discovered that embracing this level of uncertainty can be made easier by adopting the "Yes, and..." technique from improv theater into my creative routine. This involves simply agreeing with my initial ideas and then expanding on them, allowing my creativity to flow without judgment.

I even set a time limit for myself. For instance, I might say, "From 1:30 to 4:30 PM, let's forget all restrictions or rules and just follow this spark to see where it leads."

When the timer goes off—whether it's 4:30 on the dot or time to pick up a child from guitar lessons—I find myself returning to my worries. However, I feel more at peace with my concerns, having given my mind a chance to explore and play freely. 

It's doubtful that my panic-driven creations will ever vanish entirely; they seem to be a deeply ingrained method of self-sabotage for me.

The key lies in recognizing this pattern as swiftly as possible, acknowledging the misstep, and then giving myself credit for the effort to create—anything at all. 

After all, bringing something into existence from nothing is no small feat, and I ought to treat myself with kindness for undertaking such a challenge. 

I take a deep breath, reset, and begin anew, more deliberately this time.