Usually, when we choose to do something, it’s for a very specific reason. Sometimes the reason is obvious, and sometimes it’s buried deep within our subconscious, but there’s almost always a reason — often two or more.

I complete my “necessary” business tasks each day so that I can continue to afford a roof over my head and food on the table. I read books because they fill my brain with knowledge and happiness. I eat the hummingbird cake that Tim has baked for me because it is delicious. (Or I decide not to eat the cake because I’m trying to lose weight.) I spend an hour watching a marketing webinar because it will enrich my business. 

Everything we do stems from a choice we make, and that choice always stems from a reason, whether we have acknowledged that reason or not. We decide to eat the cake, or not eat the cake, depending on how we feel now — or how we want to feel later — and why

When you decide not to do something you actually want to do — whether it’s skipping your morning journaling session, ignoring your novel, or electing to put off your painting until tomorrow — you’re acting on a reason there, too.

But… what is that reason?

I don’t always get to my creative writing each day, despite knowing that it will make me feel satisfied and fulfilled, because I don’t have time for it, or I haven’t earned it, or I don’t deserve it, or I’m tired, or I’m scared to jump in and commit to a plot point I’m not in love with. 

Now, it’s okay to rest if you need to rest. Rest is good and important and not something to shame or demonize — in fact, it’s an essential part of the creative process!

But if you’re choosing to put off your daily writing session for the third, fourth, or fifth day in a row, and denying yourself the joy and fulfillment that your creativity brings you, then I want you to think about why. Because there is a why there. There’s a reason.

Start exploring that reason (or those reasons), gently. Start by asking: What do you get out of writing (or painting or podcasting, etc.)… and what do you get out of not writing (or painting or podcasting, etc.)? 

Now, what do you get out of escaping your art? Because if you’re escaping it (or avoiding it or ignoring it or putting it off indefinitely), you’re getting something out of that. What is it? A brief reprieve from the fear? A “stay of execution” from your inner judge? Permission to enjoy the “quick hit” dopamine rewards from social media? The numbing faux-peace of distraction?

In the end, what do you want to choose to do, and why? 

Again, as you consider these questions, go gently, and be kind to yourself. We punish ourselves enough every day — there’s no need to add on more. Question yourself. Be honest with yourself. Forgive yourself. And try to do something generous for your inner artist.

Words & warmth,

Sarah