Creativity as Means of Grace

As I learn from the masters, one principle that consistently jumps out at me is the difference between creativity and productivity. Creativity being an end in itself, productivity being a means to an end.

• Steven Pressfield says the artist doesn't think about success, success will come.

• Seth Godin encourages you to ship your work into the world without reproach, without expectation, and trust that you inherently have something to offer.

• Makoto Fujimara describes a culture that is fundamentally built on producing, but describes a culture of making as the healing agent.

Like a shovel, this idea has struck the same dry ground over and over again. It reverberates in my brain: "Creativity is an end in itself. Its end does not justify the means. Just create for the sake of creating." Despite my digging, I have yet to strike water. The painter paints. The singer sings. The writer writes. Even as I commit to the practice of creating, I find myself asking, "What is YOUR practice?"

It's a good question, but life goes on. Monday is always right around the corner. 9AM keeps rolling around. I continue clocking-in and out of my part-time job where I swiftly bounce between software platforms, keep my inbox spick and span, and check, check, check things off my to-do list.

Only half-joking, I have described my job as a video game to people who ask what I do. Build this, solve that. I need that key to unlock this door, where I have to defeat that new boss that is guarding my treasure. Boom, bam, success. Move on to the next level. Checks item off to-do list.

My entire life I have viewed my job in terms of productivity and not creativity — work is a means to a promotion, a paycheck, and progress. As I am currently in-between jobs, those things have been paused until I find a new place to pursue a promotion, a paycheck, and progress. But in the waiting, as I clock-in, create systems, learn new technology, try and fail, write and design, and gradually, I have begun to feel the reverberations of Pressfield, Fujimara, and Godin echoing in my brain…

Given the circumstances, the work I do is not for a promotion, it's not for a paycheck, it's not for progress. It can't be. I'm in-between jobs. If I squint my eyes and turn my head just the right amount, I can see that the work is sort of fun. It just so happens that I am relatively good at solving, improving, and analyzing. Other than doing a really good job, there is no other end in mind. That sounds a lot more like the way of creativity than it does productivity.

Quickly, my solving-brain takes this revelation and tries to scale it. Monetize it. Leverage it as the solution to all of my vocational discomfort. It's fine, I'll let him spin his wheels. What I'm really interested in are the deeper implications of grace.

I may be going out on a limb here, but I think the culture is inherently bent in the direction of productivity and progress. Teaching on the Tower of Babel, my pastor distilled this cyclical narrative into three, heart-level expressions: self-promotion, self-provision, and self-protection.

The way of creativity does not build a bridge to promotion, provision, or protection. In fact, it doesn’t have any of those things in mind. As ambassadors for the way of the artist, Pressfield ensures us these things may come, but warns us not to start there. Godin pushes us out of the nest so we can learn how to fly, but again, with no end in mind. Fujimara proffers that these creative acts indeed have a byproduct: a healing effect on the external culture, as we reflect the same redemptive creativity of our Creator.

This is an altogether different approach to the direction that our culture and hearts are bent. But it's not too far removed, it is available. And let me tell you, it’s a big relief. This way of seeing the world is not exclusive to work, it can be embodied on a walk in the evening, a lunch with friends, a weekend of rest — these things are good in themselves and have no other end. Perhaps it's even a way of being, even if only temporarily.

“I am very good and need have no other end.” There's no striving in this way of being, its fruit is rest, play, and humor.