Every creative person is holding a wolf by the ears.

These people are not short on advice on how to act. And that’s a problem. Good advice that starts as good can quickly turn sour. Or it will suit only certain people. And whatever action is chosen, whatever guidance is followed, it feels like there is the risk of showing your neck to the things that oppose creativity, even when looking for what can nurture it.

Still, there are learnings in the contradictions. The clearest example of this is the argument of discipline vs. downtime.

Discipline

These will be familiar stories. Stephen King famously writes every day, including holidays and his birthday, and has a daily writing goal of 2,000 words. In his memoir “On Writing”, he talks of his strict writing environment allowing him to “shut the door” on distractions. He is one of the most prolific writers alive. Georgia O’Keeffe, the iconic American artist, also adhered to structured daily routines and early morning work despite health challenges. She produced 2,000 artworks in her lifetime. Somerset Maugham, British playwright and one of the highest-earning authors during the first half of the 20th century, said, “I write only when inspiration strikes. Fortunately, it strikes every morning at nine o’clock sharp.”

Prince, Maya Angelou, Picasso, and Agatha Christie are all people who also have disproportionate creative output and are renowned for their rigorous work ethic.

Even when we know these stories, even when these people are idolised, it’s easy to rebel against a disciplined approach to creativity. If that rings true, it’s probably for one of these reasons.

1. Following the ‘Tortured Artist’ myth
   The often romanticised idea that creativity must come from fits of intense passion or agony, thus making creative works produced by routine feel manufactured and somehow less a reflection of their creator.
2. Fearing imperfection
   The thought of not meeting pre-determined standards can be paralysing to the point where avoiding routine serves as a form of self-protection against the discomfort that will be faced at almost every “nine o’clock sharp.”
3. Overemphasis on the ‘Eureuka’
   The culturally stubborn belief that a sudden momentous spark of inspiration is what creativity looks like, and until we’ve had it, there is nothing worthy of our time and attention.
4. Short-termism
   Prioritising immediate rewards makes it more challenging to take the long-term view, where less visible skill developments and the more influential and more considerable accomplishments typically occur through consistent work.

It’s important not to catch our reflection in these distractions too often. The hesitations that result can stop any (sometimes all) motivation to exercise creativity. But discipline, as a whole, needs to be tempered if the following, too, is to be believed.

Downtime

These will also be familiar stories. Thomas Edison practised what he called "thinking naps." He would sit in a chair holding metal balls, and as he drifted off, the balls would drop and wake him up, where he'd then write down whatever was on his mind. Salvador Dalí supposedly used a similar technique of holding keys over a metal plate. J.K Rowling conceived the idea for Harry Potter during a delayed train journey from Manchester to London, where she had nothing to do but sit and think. Beethoven was known for long walks in the Vienna Woods, just as Charles Dickens would frequently roam the streets of London.

What can be missed in overt dedication is everything we’d expect: serendipity, spontaneity, alternate views, moments of reflection and the mental latitude for subconscious problem-solving. It’s said that Paul McCartney woke up with the melody of the song ‘Yesterday’ in his head. This speaks to a form of incubation theory: during downtime, the subconscious mind continues to work, often leading to unexpected insights when we return to the task.

It’s probably fair to say that downtime is an easier default state to reach for most people than discipline, so we don’t need to consider reasons it’s avoided. But it does come with a warning label:

1. Skillset atrophy
   Just as failing to train a muscle weakens it, periods of creative inactivity can dull sharpness and skillset. Some, not all, of the practices of creativity are perishable and need constant exercise.
2. Loss of momentum
   Stopping work entirely for too long can make it difficult to return to the task at hand, often due to excitement in a newly found challenge. Here, it can become unlikely to continue or complete any pursuit, even those you deeply care about.
3. Inconsistency
   It’s easy to establish the illusion of productivity with sporadic work routines facilitated by excessive downtime. Sadly, the realisation of an unfinished body of work or one of subpar projects can be slow to appear.
4. Emotional toll
   It’s often said that comparison is the thief of joy, but that doesn’t make evading it any easier. Failing to produce work due to extended downtime can lead to the feeling of falling behind peers and an even greater requirement of motivation to restart.

Discipline can easily sound counterintuitive. Downtime can easily lead to inertia or apathy. So, what the hell are creative people supposed to do?

Back to the wolf

The lesson in these two parables — two almost always told in isolation — is like with so many things, it’s the extremes of consumption where the problems occur. Both have value, both should be understood, both allow us to learn from peers, past and present and help us shortcut our shortcomings, but there is a happy middle.

Perhaps more importantly, it’s also a reminder of something we should celebrate:

There is no single universal model of creativity.

There are no absolutes and no ‘one way’.

No one is holding a secret that few have access to.

Creativity is not exclusionary.

Anyone who says otherwise is lying, trying to protect a position of influence, or isn’t a practitioner. All this means there’s a way for you, and everything else is for everyone else. And that’s fine.

Maybe the lesson is simply — stop fighting it and let go of the damn ears.

Ian