How facing my mistakes helped me find purpose again in creating.
Approx. 1200 words; five minutes read time
I always knew creating things was special. But I, like many, came to believe that creativity was a side-pursuit, not a profession. Be it lack of confidence, denial, or veering off course, I decided somewhere along the way that work was just that, work. And the fun things - for me, making and writing - were, at best, a hobby. Now in mid-career, I've taken the leap to put creating back where it belongs - front and center in my life. But getting there has been a challenge greater than I could have ever imagined.
***
I was a creative kid and loved more than anything making things with my hands. But like many, I feared I wasn't good enough to build it into a profession. Channeling my work-ethic into academics instead, I filled my head with knowledge and padded my resume with degrees. Creative fulfillment became secondary to all else.
The career I built wasn't all bad. I became a scientist, a botanist to be precise, and enjoyed the early stages of this work. I loved exploring and took several epic adventures around the world, collecting and studying plants in far-off jungles. These romantic exploits shaped who I am and will always be part of how I think. But throughout my career, I felt empty and not myself. It all lacked the creativity that I thrived on.
Over time, I realized that the problem was not the science, but rather, it was what I was doing in science that left me wanting. But I was too entrenched by then, so I kept climbing, gaining more and more responsibility. I was always hoping that the next step - the next rung on the ladder - would help me emerge from discontent. After several hops and a few leaps, I found myself in charge of a national organization. But by then, I was no longer even a scientist - I had become an administrator.
***
For creative types, I can't imagine a more soul-sucking endeavor than administration. Granted, I know some phenomenal managers who build vibrant careers in administration. These natural leaders find fulfillment and express their creativity by orchestrating teams. But this kind of creation is no substitute for hands-on making that people like me need to feel whole.
Administration was turning into a death sentence. Saddled with loads of responsibility and little reward, the passion I once held was long gone. I felt small and more powerless than ever, despite being "the boss."
Where had I gone so wrong? And was there anything I could do to get back on track? My inclination was to stay at it and keep climbing. And most others advised me to do just that. But it turns out that in climbing this career ladder, I was burying myself deeper the higher I went. There was no salvaging my happiness and health from within. I had to get out.
***
I'm not alone in this mid-life reconning; many of us find ourselves off course, stuck on the wrong path. But instead of making needed change, we persevere, we entrench, or we climb. All to avoid rather than face what ails us. Almost instinctively, we shy away from the pain of our choices. We cover it, mask it in other successes. Worst of all, we let anxiety and fear keep us from trying something else.
Funny thing though - when a strong wind blows, we lean in, not away - to keep from being blown over. I heard once that we should do the same with pain and fear. And it makes sense - lean into what sucks. Don't let the bad push us over. Embrace what hurts, as much or even more than what doesn't. It's the only way to overcome it.
If I was going to turn my life around, I had to quit climbing away, and instead, start leaning in.
***
It was about a year ago now that I made the radical decision to change my career. In ladder climbing, I had found the bottom, not the top. And that abyss I stared into terrified me. So, I took one last look, turned, and leaned as hard as I could into the suck. I believe it was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
What I found was that I had been running from my doubts all along. My reluctance to follow my passions and to start anew was all based on a fear of failure. I was afraid to fail at creating. I was also worried about the money and losing the little I had saved up and invested - a very real mid-career concern. Worst of all, I feared what others thought and what they would say, mainly if I failed.
But when I leaned into these fears and accepted them, all became manageable. The alternative meant eventual failure anyway; I was dying in my administrative role. Leaning in helped me let go of the fear, and freed me to make the change.
***
The initial chaos that ensued was challenging. But it all worked out. Real friends surfaced and supported me, and my family expressed their unwavering love and devotion. The sky did not fall, and I was still standing when the dust cleared.
Of all the revelations this process brought, I am most humbled by one: I've discovered how good being small is. Before this, I had defined myself by my degrees and career achievements. I earned a Ph.D.; I was a CEO. Neither made me big, of course, but they certainly sounded superior. Now, I measure myself by what fulfills me - I write, and I make things. It's honest and straightforward. It's me.
In creating, joy has returned to my life, and I am back on course. I am no longer crippled by issues, although many remain. Writing and making pull me into a better world, one where purpose is all-encompassing. Life again is fulfilling and has meaning. And I can lean into all else that sucks, ready to face it rather than shying - or climbing - away.
***
Some say it's crazy to start up a new career in mid-life. After all, many of us have spent decades building an identity around another set of pursuits. But when we make mistakes, no matter how big or longstanding, we have two choices:
staying the course and burying ourselves in mounting errors;
or leaning in, acknowledging our faults, and charting a new path.
I choose the latter. For me, it would be crazy not to lean in.
Science. Fiction. Create.
JRC