But what exactly do they mean, and why do they keep saying it?
I’m an accountant. Numbers and statistics reflect outcomes at a given point in time: You’ve made this much profit in the last 12 months. Here are your net assets at year-end.
We often forget that we can go deeper. Numbers and statistics also tell stories, and those stories hold the most valuable information: how you got to where you are now.
They’re a window into process.
We can see how chasing a particular financial outcome leads to poor decision-making, number-fudging, and year-end tricks that waste precious resources, all for the sake of a strong earnings report.
A business with heart, one that demonstrates sustainable growth, is a business dedicated to its mission and enthralled with the process of carrying it out.
It’s the process that captures potential.
The role of outcomes in the creative process
Of course, results speak. Let’s turn our attention back to the creative process.
Impressive outcomes capture our imagination and motivate us to take a step toward our dreams in the first place:
- To paint a portrait in this style that I love.
- To fill this sketchbook.
- To publish 100 blog posts.
- To write a novel.
And, especially in this day and age, to revel in the glorious statistical growth that quantifies the external validation for the work I’ve produced.
Much like our friends the financial statements, the outcome of a particular creative project is a marker in time that reflects how you’ve progressed.
The outcome is a powerful motivator — it’s what piques our curiosity.
Someone else’s outcome inspires something within us. When met with aspiration, that spark is the intrinsic motivator that drives us to become.
The process of becoming: inspiration vs. aspiration
Who do you want to be when you grow up?
Inspiration is the input that stirs something within us. It lights a little inner spark.
Aspiration is what we decide to do with that spark. It’s how we choose to express it back into the world.
To demonstrate the tension between the two and how they impact the creative process, I have two journeys to share with you. One is my foray into watercolour, which was very much inspiration-driven. The other is my adventure in writing, which was more aspiration-driven.
I’m inspired by many artists, but after many years without painting, I suddenly became enamoured with the art of Hieu Nguyen (Kelogsloops). Something about his work spoke to me.
Oh, how I’d love to paint like that! There’s that inner stirring.
So, why not learn how? That was the spark that inspired me to pick up a paintbrush again and start a deep dive into watercolour.
Of course, the focus on your goal, or ideal outcome, keeps you ever cognizant of exactly how far you are from achieving it. Over time, this can wear on the hopeful creative soul, making space for frustration to settle in and end the exploration.
That is, unless you can learn to love the process.
Falling in love with the outcome gets you in the door.
Falling in love with the process marries you to your craft.
To become, let go of expectations (and just start)
It takes years of practice to get good at anything. So, how do you stay committed?
The secret is to let go of expectation, because part of what motivates us to give up is being too conscious of how far we are from our ideal outcomes.
I’m excited by the painting process. I’m just a hobbyist, so my process is not refined, but it’s something like:
- Gather inspiration or outline the story I’m telling
- Brainstorm the imagery and colour palettes that convey it best
- Draw thumbnails to map out and decide on composition
- Start on the painting with a pencil sketch
- Get to painting! Paint from lightest to darkest
Yet my skill is not where it needs to be to execute my grand visions as inspired by artists with years and years of experience. Of course not — I don’t have years and years of experience! But because I’m ever-cognizant of that, it creates some resistance to just enjoying the process.
A shortcut to loving the process for what it is? Lifestyle or day-in-the-life content. I’m all about getting introspective and finding your own unique path, but if you’re looking for a quick fix, this content is alluring and can motivate you to focus less on the outcome and more on the process. (Also, it’s just satisfying because let’s face it — we’re nosy.)
So, if you can let go of expectations for your work, and just let your creations exist like a catalogue of growth, then you’re a step closer to loving the process and getting those years of experience under your belt.
Adventures in writing and committing to the craft
A writer writes, an artist makes art.
Somewhere in the last several years, I decided I wanted to be a writer. Not as a vocation, but as a form of creative self-expression. Although I invite inspiration in, it’s not quite like my experience with watercolour. I’m not keeping tabs on how close or far I am from writing like John Grisham.
In watercolour, I was inspired by finished pieces.
For some reason, in writing, I was inspired by the process itself.
Pre-accounting career, I read a lot more fiction, and I couldn’t help but wonder how authors create worlds, inhabitants, and gripping storylines. I wanted to experience that process. So, I tried it!
Naturally, living on my hard drive is the first draft of a novella inspired by a song, and a few half-baked novel ideas. Let me just say for the record: I’m far from having the skill to write a novel. Perhaps one day.
A meandering exploration into the process of writing, which started out as fiction, eventually lead to this blog.
It didn’t spontaneously materialize, though. You’re currently reading my 82nd published blog post, but there are many drafts and abandoned iterations of Debit This, Create That, rooming with my failed attempts at fiction because they didn’t quite live up to my expectations.
There’s that word again!
Accepting failure as part of the process
I was surprisingly undeterred by these “failures” because I saw them as part of the process. And really, the frustration from my failed writing attempts had a hidden benefit:
Failure created space for a sort-of devotion to the craft (if I may be so dramatic).
In a way, it’s easy to write when you’re inspired and full of hope and ambition.
It’s hard to write when you’ve been trying for months or years, and nothing is sitting right. This is the make it or break it point.
Will you face your fear of continued failure? Will you venture on anyway?
I said yes, and kept blogging. I didn’t really have a vision for what I’d be talking about — I just wanted to write as an outlet outside of work.
Spending time in that process, and letting go of expectation — the exact shape or form the blog needed to take — was what allowed it to take shape and form.
I let it take me on an adventure, and this is what’s made writing stick.
In fact, I started the miniseries Adventures in Writing because I wanted to document my little learnings as I went. It keeps me attached to the process of writing (or learning to write). Why “adventures”? Because it feels like a journey, the prospect of becoming a writer is exciting to me, and I have no end-goal. I’m open to disappointments and surprises alike.
I think the adventure is what kept my blog alive, until I had a real mission and vision for it.
(Which is to encourage more happy creatives out of their shells and into the world that needs them so deeply.)
What happens when you learn to love the process?
The outcome of all this process-loving? Eventually, outcomes you’re proud of.
You can’t keep showing up with love, day-in and day-out for years, and not create something fantastic.
Although I’ve tidied up some of my earlier posts a little bit (because the message is still relevant), the blog started off as a sprawling mess. But over time, as I engaged with the process, my thoughts became a bit more structured. My writing has (hopefully) become a bit more clear. My process of editing and publishing is a bit more streamlined.
The rate at which my process improved was able to keep up with what I wanted to produce (sort-of).
My blog is hopefully a helpful resource for busy professionals who want to embrace creativity in their daily lives.
It’s also become my process playground.
Many of my blog posts still start with rambling freewriting, but I can take that jumbled self-expression and paint it into a framework, turn it into something cohesive.
Some of my blog posts start with a simple headline or basic idea, so I can exercise the traditional bullet point outline.
Occasionally I’ll sit down and just draft out an entire post (like this one – I’m about 675 words in on first draft, but that’ll likely change when I come back to edit).
[Edit: Yes, we’re at about 1,700 now.]
But I think of all the processes, my favourite is simply having something very near and dear to my heart to sit down and work on. A passion project. I love coming to the computer to write. It’s not always fun in the traditional sense. Often it’s downright frustrating. But I love a challenge, I love to flip through my catalogue of growth, and I love having autonomy over my self-expression.
Do you write? What’s your jam?
Whatever it is, may it take you on a grand adventure — one with a process that you truly love.
Would you love some creative encouragement as you explore your creative process? I write a monthly letter meant to do just that! Join me here for creativity direct to your inbox.
What’s your next read? You might like:
- Adventures in Writing: Why is it so hard to be concise? – My struggles in writing blog posts under 2,000 words.
- Literally Running Away From the Perfectionism Problem – An earlier post about process, but through the lens of learning to love running.
- How to Create a Meaningful Personal Project From Your Hobby – If you’re looking for a way to love the process but still have an end-goal in mind.
