Are we entitled to our own creativity?
Are we entitled to our own creativity?
What happens when the well runs dry?
Hi,
I want to talk a bit about entitlement.
Entitlement is often used as a bad word. Someone who is "entitled" is seen as being selfish, greedy, insensitive and generally a bit of a dick. There are more benign versions of "entitlement," too. "You are entitled to a free coupon with purchase," for example. Whether entitlement is good or bad, it's something that doesn't feel very close to what it truly means to be a person. It's more social or political. It's something that happens to us - a circumstance - or it's something that we see in others - a misalignment of values or a character flaw.
But there's a version of "entitlement" that I think most of us embody all of the time and I only recently noticed it in myself. We all, deep down, seem to feel entitled to ourselves. To our autonomy and our lives. Entitlement, in a way, overlaps with freedom and ability. So are we entitled to ourselves all of the time? And, most importantly to me right now, are we entitled to our creativity?
The thought occurred to me in a strange way. It started by feeling obligated, as a creative professional, to provide others with my creativity. That's a real situation when you make art into your work – if someone contracts me to make something for them and I agree, I am obligated to provide them with my work. But the feeling bleeds out from there into other spaces. I start to feel obligated to provide my creativity all the time (even when it isn't asked for or it isn't very accessible to me).
Entitlement is just the other end of an obligation. If you owe someone something, then they are clearly the one who is entitled to that thing. And so, when I'm feeling obliged to provide people my creativity, does that imply that they are entitled to it?
Writing it out, it all feels a bit obtuse, but we see this kind of mentality all the time – the public may demand something of an artist, betraying an entitlement they feel to their work (I'm thinking principally of the recurring phenomenon of people demanding sequels to books from authors who may never want to write them). Or we see artists and "creators" apologising for an absence, betraying a sense that the apology is necessary since the work is an obligation they left unfulfilled.
So, that's what this post was going to be about. Let me show you where it went.
We talk about entitlement a lot. Fans feel entitled to celebrities and invade their lives and personal space – that's weird and obviously wrong. Capitalists feel entitled to infinite growth of revenue at the expense of people's lives, the environment and all that is good and moral – this is obviously bad and driving much of the greatest suffering in the world right now. It feels trivial to point out other people's entitlement and declare it to be immoral. Seeing someone behaving as though they are entitled to anything at the expense of others feels wrong most of the time.
I had this feeling dancing around inside myself for a while as I toyed with this idea, but it didn't really come together. That is, until I noticed this feeling of obliged creativity, where the obligation was directed less toward others and more toward myself.
I'm realising that I feel obliged to myself to be creative. I feel entitled to my own creativity.
When I rebooted this newsletter, I came in with a lot of momentum. That's how it works when you have ADHD and a cool new idea: it consumes every thought you have until something else inevitably takes that space of novelty and fun. But I know this about myself, so I didn't want to let that happen with Everyone's Creative. Because this feels important.
At the same time, I knew that as a side project to my day job and the rest of my life, it couldn't be the focus forever. I knew I wanted this to stay fun, and that I didn't want to set expectations too high, leading me to feeling like I let anyone down if I had to take a break. I committed to myself to never apologise for taking some time away. I don't want to be obligated to an audience - not right now, at least - and I don't want that pressure.
And then my summer became a whirlwind of death, grief and anxiety, and I forced myself to take a break. I forced myself to practice resting and I let my projects and big ideas sit to the side while I tried to look after myself and my family.
That's when this feeling started. I noticed that I felt this pressure to create things - to write or draw or even just think about making something. I felt this uncomfortable cramp growing inside of me - a push and pull that I couldn't put words to.
What I realised is that entitlement was rearing its head. Being creative, making things, it's fulfilling and meaningful and fun. I felt this draw to spend my time doing something that I enjoyed, but I knew that I wasn't in the right state of mind for it. I had committed to taking time for myself, to use my time to build strength and resilience and support systems for myself. The entitlement was frustrated by that, and I started to feel bad for not making things. I felt deeply obligated to be creative and I felt guilt and shame for setting that part of myself to the side. It felt like a waste of a resource - I only have so much time to be alive and I’m spending it not making things?
So that's how I recognised the little cycle I was caught in: I felt entitled to my own creativity, and I felt shame and guilt for not fulfilling that obligation to myself. It's kind of fucking horrible, isn't it?
If entitlement dovetails with any other ideas, I think it fits snugly together with expectations. Entitlement isn't usually materialising out of nowhere, right? Our expectations are built from past experience, which tells us how we can expect things to be in the future. If that expectation has to do with receiving something, then you start to feel entitled to that thing just because you always get it. And when that thing - creativity, in this case - comes from inside you, then you're the only person you have to get mad at when your expectations aren't fulfilled.
We fall short of things we want to be able to do all the time. We let ourselves down. But I don't think this is exactly the same thing. I think we spoil ourselves sometimes, and we grow to become our own worst, most entitled follower. We're constantly hovering, waiting to see what we'll do next, and complaining to ourselves when we don't do the things we want to. I don't think that's sustainable and I want to try to redirect that feeling somehow. I want to become a bit more compassionate to myself, and a little less entitled. If I can. No pressure.
I'll leave it there for now. I don't have a bow to tie on this one. I just wanted to share this thought I had. Maybe you've felt this way too? Feel free to let me know, and if you need to take a break then please just take a break. If you owe yourself anything, it's that.
Love,
Simon 🐒
P.S. I really am interested in if this feeling resonates with anyone else. I’d love to hear your thoughts! You can reply directly to this if you got it in your inbox or leave a comment on the post.
Interesting post. I think 'entitlement' is an uncomfortable way of framing it. I certainly agree that we all have expectations of our own creativity, which can be unhelpful in placing undue pressure on us to produce, and crushing us with guilt when we do not. Honest self-examination of those expectations is easier said than done but may be really important to our creative wellbeing.
I do often encounter a feeling (including in myself sometimes) that is one is entitled to an audience for their creative work just because of the work that went into it, which although understandable is sadly not the case. We need to be creating a lot more for ourselves and for its own sake, rather than what we can get from others which is outside of our control - especially if those others are strangers on the internet!
Simon, this is so good. I wrestle with this idea a lot, like, "Is my creativity actually any of my business? Something we can control?" Etc, etc. Thank you for sharing!