How Dare We Please Ourselves!

Breaking: another law of creativity has been discovered

I sat down to write today and immediately made my first mistake: I thought about what you wanted from me. Love y’all, but that was my first misstep.

Then I asked myself what I knew a lot about. What little thing am I an armchair expert on that may be useful to people? And then the phrase “may be useful to people” stuck in my head.

I’m going to take a wild guess that most of my readers, like me, are people-pleasing perfectionists. And I’ll take another wild guess that you have a nearly constant stream of negative, fearful, or self-critical thoughts coursing through your brain. If you’re not identifying with this, then please—for all of our sakes—drop a comment and enlighten us on HOW.

So, as I sit my little people-pleasing ass down to write today, I realize my motivation is deeply rooted in what I think you will want. What value I can bring you. How you can accomplish this or that, sing whatever high note, practice effectively.

What If Value Isn’t the Point?

Don’t get me wrong—when we publish things and do work, there should be a healthy element that’s for other people. When I post on Instagram, I’ve learned the effectiveness of posting for my audience. When I perform, it is to move an audience. But I’m learning something about creativity that I am only now (as we speak) trying messily to put into words.

The commerce side of our lives responds to pleasing people and providing them with value. On the surface it seems harmless, even noble. Providing a service for people, filling in empty spaces, giving good information, even changing someone’s life. But it’s still a transaction.

And not the transaction you think it may be. Sometimes we exchange goods and services for money, sure. But more often, we people-pleasing, anxiety-ridden do-gooders provide pleasure to other people in exchange for the fleeting feeling of false acceptance and safety. We are stuck chasing.

And there’s something about this season in my life now, my age, and me finally leaving a job I’ve been at for nearly a decade... that I’m really tired of chasing. Because first of all, there is no end. And second of all… creativity doesn’t play by these same rules.

The Transaction We Don’t Talk About

As silly as it sounds, after a decade on the stage, I’ve come to understand that creativity doesn’t play by the same rule-book as most of our cultures and societies. It has its own laws, and only us brave humans who choose to live in the arts begin to discover these laws of creativity.

And the one I’m uncovering here—in this little Saturday sit-down between you, my dear imaginary reader, and my laptop—is that true creativity is an act of pleasing ourselves. It’s even hard to write it because I bet half of your brains went to the sexualized version of “self-pleasure.” And they are neighbors, to be sure. How dare we. How dare we sing for our own pleasure, write the things we want to write, spend time creating the things we wish existed in the world.

The Laws of Creativity Are Different

At least the magic with singing is that it is better when you please yourself with your own voice. If you want to try something extremely vulnerable, then try it. I’m not talking about singing or creating with your ego. Honestly, that is boring, generally reserved for all of the men running the opera world (yawn), and doesn’t require a lot of deep thinking.

Singing to please yourself requires a lot of deep work and thought. How do you want to sound? How do you think each phrase, breath, word, and moment should be expressed? What kind of bravery and mental focus will it take to create those moments and string them all together into something cohesive? Not hiding behind the mask of technique or manufactured sounds you’ve been told by others to make.

It’s worth considering the laws of creativity work differently. It’s a place where what we might consider selfish is the whole point. It’s rewarded. Somewhere we missed the memo that when we take on the title of “artist,” then we are the ones who get to run the show. We get to make the decisions.

After all, you’re the artist. You get to decide.

xoxo