When I was in my early twenties (and just starting to paint and sell my work) I lived in Santa Barbara with my dear friend Chris. I was in a fearful place around money, my talents and my ability to make a go at a creative life. My inner critics were having a field day. I’ll never forget when Chris stopped me, looked in my eyes and said (more frustrated than I had ever heard him), “When are you going to take for granted that you’re an artist? And start creating from there? Stop trying to prove it!”
He said this in a moment of utter exasperation – probably tired of hearing my fears and self-diminishing chatter.
If he was Madonna, he probably would have said, “Darling, just fucking own it.”
And all these years later I can see it. Of course I’m an artist. Why all the drama? Why did I waste so much time trying to prove it? It’s all I’ve been doing since I was a little girl – drawing, painting, making jewelry, choreographing dance routines. How could I ever have questioned it?
And yet. We do this.
Even now, I can see that I’ve owned being an artist, but as a writer? I still need to own it.
How about you? Where in your life would owning it shift things in a profound way?
Take a moment and consider where in your life you need to own it.
Where have you been trying to prove your worthiness?
What if you took __________________________ for granted and started to create from there?
(Fill in the blank in the comments)