Oh wow. š³ You do creative work!?
āSo, what do you do for a living?ā
āIām a songwriter, and Iām in an artist duo with my wife. Weāve been doing music together for the last 14ish years.ā
With a look of slight shock and amazement, āWow! Thatās cool!ā
This was a conversation I had at the gym just a few weeks ago. I often get this kind of reaction when I mention that I do creative work for a living. I try to respond graciously, but in my head, I chuckle because no one ever responded this way when I was a janitor, waiter, or retail clerk.
If Iām not careful, I can start to believe that doing creative work is superior to other kinds of work. But there isnāt any more dignity or nobility in my creative work than there was in my work as a janitor.
But we live in a culture that is confused about how it feels about creative work. On one hand, we champion creative work more than other kinds of work. On the other hand, we wonder if creative work is actually work.
The other reaction
I met a new lady at church a few weeks ago who asked what I do for a living. I explained that my wife and I are full-time songwriters and artists, and her facial features fell into a stink-face frown as she said, āAnd you can actually make money doing that? Aha! Just kidding.ā
This is the second common reaction I get when I tell people I do creative work for a living. I canāt tell you how many times people have looked at me like Iām an alien because my literal job is a creative work theyāre not familiar with. People are skeptical of creative work, especially when your creative work isnāt famous. I donāt have time in this post to go in-depth about how this reflects the cultural assumption that fame or being well-known is the only determining factor of whether or not you are successful as a creative, but it does.
Iām sure the lady I met (along with all the other people who have responded this way) didnāt mean anything by this response, but this kind of reaction makes me feel small and silly for pursuing creative endeavors.
In some ways, creative work is championed as superior work, but in other ways, itās deemed an inferior career path.
A better understanding of work
As a creative person, I swim in these confused cultural waters while trying to keep my head on straight. Iāve found that the healthiest way for me to press on is to understand and embrace a Biblical, Christian worldview of work.
The book Every Good Endeavor by Timothy Keller has been incredibly helpful. Hereās a helpful quote that speaks to this seesaw of inferiority and superiority complex we sometimes face as creatives.
āWe no longer have any basis for condescension or superiority; nor is there any basis for envy or feelings of inferiority. And every Christian should be able to identify, with conviction and satisfaction, the ways in which his or her work participates with God in his creativity and cultivation.ā
There is much more I have to say about this in future articles. For now, I just wanted to share that itās helped me to see that doing creative work isnāt superior or inferior to other kinds of work.
Satisfaction in the work itself
If we buy into the hype and think that our work is superior, it might leave us confused when we start to feel the _work_ of our work. Every successful creative, you know, is just waking up and doing the work. We have to get over this idea that if we were only gifted and creative enough, we would live a charmed life, and everyone would love everything we create. One thing that helps us move past that idea is finding satisfaction in the work itself.
In his book Keep Going, Austin Kleon talks about how creatives should embrace a personal āGroundhog Day.ā The point is to find satisfaction and joy in doing the same work day after day.
āThe creative journey is not one in which youāre crowned the triumphant hero and live happily ever after. The real creative journey is one in which you wake up every day, like Phil (from the movie Groundhog Day), with more work to do.ā
Into the void
Gaining a balanced understanding of our creative work doesnāt just keep us from getting a big head but also keeps us from getting overly discouraged.
Our creative work isnāt inferior just because people donāt know about it.
Itās incredibly discouraging when we spend hours, days, weeks, and months on creative projects, only for them to fall flat and tumble into the void of noise where people are unlikely to find it. Itās easy to feel pretty silly for spending time on creative projects when we donāt seem to get any results.
We can and should evaluate, learn, and grow from our perceived failures. Itās not smart to plow forward on the wings of hope without evaluating our desires, whatās working, whatās not, and why.
But gaining mass attention isnāt the only indicator that we are doing important and meaningful work.
As creatives, we long to be seen and heard. We long to connect with others who might appreciate the things we are working on. I think itās good and normal for us to want these things, but every creative I know goes in and out of seasons of feeling frustrated by a lack of public response to what theyāre creating.
What helps us press on when we feel discouraged is finding joy, satisfaction, and meaning in the work of creating things.
Humble and glorious
The creative people I admire most are those who seem to have a humble and glorious view of their creative work.
Creative work is important and meaningful, not because it has the ability to draw attention to itself but because of how it adds beauty, connection, and insight to the world.
My job as a creative worker isnāt superior to my former job as a janitor. Each is an essential and helpful way of contributing to society. The position of a janitor isnāt going to draw a crowd, and itās not a coveted job, but itās holy, needed, and good work.
Likewise, my job as a creative worker isnāt inferior to my former job as a janitor. Having a āstable jobā with a āstable paycheckā doing work that obviously benefits others is a wonderfully good and noble thing to do. But itās also noble to do the work of thinking, writing, forming, shaping, and creating. Itās noble to risk giving the world your best creative energy, knowing that it could seemingly go unheard and unseen.
Having a deeper appreciation for work itself has grounded me as I pursue my creative work. Itās provided both confidence and humility. It has helped me take myself less seriously and more seriously.
My creative work isnāt superior or inferior to any other work; itās just the work God has given me to do.