The Part of a Creative Practice Nobody Warns You About

Most people say they want a creative practice.

Writing. Photography. Painting. Playing an instrument. Something that’s theirs, outside of work and obligation.

And a creative practice will do a lot for you. It clears your head. It generates ideas. It helps you process what you can’t yet say out loud. I wrote about that here (Writing is How I Think).

But there’s something I left out.

Something Jon Katz, one of my favorite writers, put plainly: writing and really, any creative practice demands honesty. The kind where you look at yourself clearly, and then let other people look too.

That’s harder than it sounds.

Most people who say they want a creative practice can’t imagine doing that part. They want the output without the exposure. The finished piece without the uncomfortable process of figuring out what they actually think, feel, or believe.

Honesty has a cost.

Not long ago, I was a finalist for a position that looked good on paper. Good title. Solid opportunity. The kind of thing you’re supposed to want. But the closer I looked, the clearer it became. The work would pull me away from design, training, and communication. The creative work. I’d have been spending my days on technical setup and system configuration instead.

So I pulled out.

That decision was uncomfortable. It required being honest about what I’m actually built for, and then acting on it, even when the safer path was still open.

That’s what an honest creative practice teaches you, if you let it.

It shows you what your thoughts actually are. And once you can see them clearly, you have to decide what to do with them.

A creative practice doesn’t have to be dramatic. It doesn’t require a studio, a publishing deal, or three uninterrupted hours.

It looks like writing for 15 minutes in the morning before the day takes over. Not for an audience. Just to clear the channel. Julia Cameron called them morning pages. The goal isn’t to produce anything worth sharing. The goal is to hear yourself think.

It looks like spending 30 minutes in nature three times a week. Walking without a destination. Leaving the podcast at home. Nature has a way of slowing the mental noise down enough that something quieter can come through. A lot of people find their best ideas not at a desk, but on a trail.

It looks like visiting a museum regularly. Not to study art history, but to notice what stops you. What you’re drawn to. What you stand in front of longer than expected. That’s information. Your creative instincts are showing you something about how you see the world.

It looks like picking up an instrument you’ve always been curious about. Not to perform. Not to be good at it. Just to learn a new language, one your rational mind doesn’t control. There’s something freeing about being a beginner again.

The medium matters less than most people think. What matters is showing up consistently, paying attention to what the practice reveals, and being honest enough to do something with it.

The painter who keeps returning to the same subject. The writer who can’t stop circling the same themes. The photographer drawn to the same kind of light. There’s information in that. Your creative work is telling you something. What’s natural, what energizes you, what you can’t quite leave alone.

Pay attention to it.

Some seasons won’t make room for full creative expression. That’s real, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But when a choice is in front of you, and eventually one will be, your creative practice gives you a clearer foundation to stand on.

So yes, start the practice. Show up. Make something that doesn’t have to be good.

But also be willing to look at what it shows you.

And then be honest enough to act on it.

If the creative practice is starting to show you something — about the life you’re living versus the one that actually fits you — the free guide How to Stop Living Someone Else’s Life is a good next step. It asks four questions that help you see where you’ve been following someone else’s path, and offers four practices for finding your way back to your own.

Download it free →