“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you; if you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.”
—Jesus, The Gospel of Thomas
Creatives often talk about how they do their most important work first thing in the morning. Instead of burning time and energy on email, social media, scheduling, or even (meaningful!) conversations at the corner cafe, they carve out and protect time for their craft.
Writers write. Painters paint. Designers design.
Why? Because regardless of how the rest of the day goes or the impact of an infinite number of variables, you at least have the satisfaction of knowing you completed the most important thing! Nothing can take that away from you.
Meanwhile, Mark Twain famously advised doing the hardest thing first with a gross image that has been turned into a productivity hack: “If it's your job to eat a frog, it's best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it's your job to eat two frogs, it's best to eat the biggest one first.” Is something worrying you? Annoying you? Overwhelming you? Freezing you? Do that thing first. The job you’re trying to avoid. Because by clearing it out of the way, you’ll free up other creative energy.
So which approach is it? What should you do first thing in the morning—the important creative work or the hardest thing?
In truth, the answer is going to be different for every person. Remember, this STILL space isn’t about peddling supposedly-universal hustle tips. (That being said, meditate. Always meditate first!)
But often, both of these are true. Because often the thing you need to do, the creative contribution that is yours to make, is something that simultaneously brings you joy and terror. It’s both the best thing you get to do AND the worst thing you have to do.
Which means that you can have an attraction and aversion to it at the same time.
Working with and through this creative tension is what Steven Pressfield explores in his brilliant book The War of Art.
It’s what my friend and neighbor is still contending with even as he writes his eighth (!) book.
And it’s what I experienced this morning as a loud layer within me was resisting sitting down and writing this, even as a deeper layer was beckoning me.
I could have piddled away my morning. That happens sometimes, and it’s okay. Also, as a former achievement-addict, I’ve learned that sometimes the most important job I have to do is to rest (This is intentional and distinct from piddling away, but that’s a longer conversation for another time!).
But there’s also wisdom in cautioning against piddling away a morning. Because piddling away a morning can… DESTROY YOU!
[Woah… this just got really intense… How exactly is it that this can destroy me?]
Wasting your mornings can lead to wasting your day. And wasting your days can lead to wasting your life. “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives,” Annie Dillard writes.
And all of this wasting is a dead giveaway that you’re not bringing forth what is within you. It signals the self-destructive reality identified in the Gospel of Thomas: “If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.” When we don’t express our purpose, when we keep our creative contributions bottled up, we live a lesser version of the life we’re meant to live. We become less human.
As Brené Brown observes: “Unused creativity is not benign. It metastasizes. It turns into grief, rage, judgment, sorrow, shame.” So refusing to bring forth the goodness and beauty and creativity and love within us is not neutral. Instead, we end up exporting harmful things into our families, relationships, and work.
This is not a threat. This isn’t about living in fear about a so-called unproductive morning. It isn’t about feeling guilty after consuming social media instead of creating something. None of that is very helpful.
This is an invitation to stay awake to the reality that you have a creative contribution to make, even as there are a million other things trying to steal your attention.
This is an urgent call to tend to your purpose even when it feels too confusing or too risky or too demanding.
This is a clarifying reminder that bringing forth what is within you isn’t always going to be attractive or appetizing. Sometimes it’s a frog. Maybe even a big one. But eating it will save you!
Actually, it won’t just save you.
Bringing forth your creativity in whatever form—not just “artsy” things, but also kindness, service, vision, curiosity, patience, generosity, hospitality, imagination, and more—this will save all of us.