the desire
In late 2022, I wrote a Substack post talking about feeling stuck with my writing, and how the only way through was to just force myself to create. I publicly committed to posting a short essay a week, and a longer essay each month.
In 2023, I wrote a (now deleted) Twitter thread about how I wanted to post more, and that I was committing to tweeting every day for the next three months.
I failed at both, and I failed quick. I think I wrote maybe two essays for the first goal, and maybe a week of tweets for the second. In both cases, the writing was gruelling, a product of me trying to coercing myself to do the work.
Then, in last May, something clicked into place. I actually started enjoying tweeting. I started tweeting a lot. Then, I started writing essays, publishing 27 over the rest of the year.
What happened?
on flow
The simple answer is: I was finally ready.
Before last May, I knew I wanted to write, I knew I wanted to share my thoughts with my world, I knew I wanted to be prolificβ¦ but I didnβt quite know what to express, and I didnβt quite know how to express it. And then, rather suddenly, I did.
This is how the creative process works. We donβt just come up with a vision and then go bring it to life. We donβt just force something into existence.
It starts with a few hints, here and there, and a quiet yearning. That yearning builds and builds, over weeks or months or years, and eventually spurs us to action. We make a few attempts but these are inevitably paltry, disordered, halfhearted. We might not yet believe in our own vision, or we just havenβt found our feet yet.
But it keeps building. Something is organizing itself in our subconscious. Some process is bubbling away in the depths of our mind, fermenting. When itβs done, we know. We have a sudden clarity, a sudden energy. And just like that, we get to work.
on forcing
But itβs easy to be impatient with this process. We get a glimpse of an idea and we want it now. We imagine the type of person weβd be if we could bring it to life. We imagine the admiration we might receive, the sense of belonging.
So we try to rush it. And it feels terrible. It feels like running uphill in thick mud. Nothing works right. We lose confidence in our own abilities. We canβt make any consistent progress, even though we know we should.
This is treacherous terrain. Itβs tempting to throw out the vision. Itβs tempting to give up on the whole fermentation process. Paradoxically, that can help, because itβs not actually up to you. If a vision is strong enough, if itβs actually a calling, then itβll keep going, regardless of your conscious decision to give it up for good.
So we stick with it, or we donβt. And eventually, sooner or later, the process completes. Done. Fermented. Ready to serve.
And then itβs easy. Then itβs fun. Maybe not always, maybe not forever, but our muddy hill is now a stroll up a mountain path. Arduous, but satisfying. Intimidating, but beautiful.
When itβs ready, youβll know.
how to ferment
If you asked me to replicate what changed for me in May, I couldnβt do it.
If you asked me to just name what changed, internally and externally, in a way that finally allowed me to create content in the way that I wanted toβ¦ I still couldnβt.
The only explanation is: I wasnβt ready, and then I was.
We cannot force a vision into being before itβs ready, and we also canβt force it to be ready, or try to speed up the fermentation process.
Alas. If it could be so, the most disciplined people among us would also be the most creative, and thatβs simply not the case.
But that doesnβt mean we are powerless.
Our most creative selves embody a particular energy. The version of you who is actualizing your vision has a certain aura about them. They act a certain way, and they feel a certain way.
We can use that energy as our compass. Imagine the version of you who is bringing your vision to life, and imagine how they feel. Then, notice when you feel even a hint of that energy in your day-to-day life.
Notice what conditions bring you closer to your most creative self, and seek to amplify that.
Weβre able to create when we become the type of person who is ready to create, not before.
Thatβs our job as artists (and weβre all artists, in this way). To pay attention to certain energies, certain ways of being, and move closer to them.
Thereβs nothing more you can do. Thereβs nothing more you need to do. And you can start right now.
With love & appreciation,
Scott
P.S. if youβd like to help clarifying your vision and its required energy, check out my 1:1 coaching. π
I've enjoyed your tweets, fwiw! There's something to be said for coming back to things with a fresh perspective. The struggles along the way can feel a bit like, "I shouldn't have done this..." but you said it well. Maybe the idea just has to percolate!