Psychology

Pushing Isn’t Pushing

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We’re all familiar with pushing ourselves. Upping caffeine, lowering sleep, focusing intently, and sometimes actually getting something done before we burn out and pretend it was worth it. Creatives also push themselves, but I think we’re facing double trouble when we do – because there’s pushing yourself and pushing yourself creatively.

Pushing ourselves alone is a gamble – as I sarcastically noted above. You can try to go above and beyond in effort and hours, but also risk burning yourself out for nothing. Many a creative has a sketch or rough draft that makes them wonder “what the hell was I thinking” during their last caffeine-and-dubstep binge.

(I just assume dubstep keeps you going. Look, I’m in a retro jazz/exotica phase right now.)

But pushing oneself creatively and just pushing oneself in general is not the same thing and I think many a creative confuses the two. To push oneself creatively is to try new things, imagine different, try a new style. It’s to go to the edge of what we can do and dare to step over into unknown territory. It’s not the same as just plain long-haul overtime.

In fact, I’d say treating pushing yourself creatively as some punishing march produces too little payoff for the damage and gets it wrong.

Pushing oneself creatively is a case of openness, of wandering, of experimentation. You have to do things more, different, and in other directions. Yes you may have to push yourself effort-wise, but it’s to push past boundaries and blockages and habits, not just sheer head-against-wall effort. Treating it as some kind of struggle like a marathon studying session puts you in the wrong mindset and focusing in the wrong thing.

Pushing yourself creatively always has an element of unsurety, of play, of going in circles for the sake of seeing what happens after a few rotations. Turning it into a grind, of “I have to ram through this,” or “I have to try these six different things no matter what” really just means you stop focusing on creativity and focus on metrics or just plain making sure you suffer appropriately. It’s not going to make you more creative, it’s going to make you more miserable.

There’s a time in place for a creative to push themselves in sheer effort. Sometimes it can help creativity, with some boundaries, like seeing how fast you can write, or trying a scene differently, or, hell, ALL of NaNoWriMo. But you need to have the space to push your creativity by being creative and that doesn’t always lend itself to the grindset mindset.

In closing, let me recall a friend who went through some tough times. They focused on their creative projects, which did take effort, but they kept that state of play. They not only improved on their own projects, it also got them through said tough times. It was a push, but a push that was fun and actually sustained them.

Next time you’re on the creative grind, ask just what you’re trying to do. You might do more with less pushing. In fact, you might find it’s time to get more done by playing.

Steven Savage

Hard Because We’re Inside

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Writers, artists of all kinds, can be incredibly hard on themselves. If you’ve dealt with such creatives, you know it. If you are such a creative, well, you’re nodding along. I myself can be harsh towards my skills, abilities, and works.

I’ve wondered why we do this. I mean sure, not every artist or writer self-flagellates, but it’s common enough that I feel there’s something to it. We creatives can turn on ourselves.

A book could be written on this – indeed I’ve written about it before. But one of the reasons that comes to mind is simply that we’re inside something no one else can experience.

Each creative person is living inside their own unique experience and creations. No one can see the flaws of our work because only we have them inside our head. No one can see the flaws in our process like we do as we are the process. No one lives with them as much as us – only we know what that’s like.

We experience our creations and creativity so intimately its easy to see the flaws. It’s also hard to express or connect as no one can really get what’s going on as they’re not us. It’s lonely, in our face, and intense.

Solving it is also hard because our self-loathing is so intense and personal. For us creatives wanting to mitigate this – and help others, I think there’s a few lessons.

First, any creative has to be aware of their own mental health and use our awareness of how personal our experience is. Being aware that yes, we have unique experiences, yes its hard to share, we can approach our own well-being better.

Secondly, I think we can network and connect with fellow creatives so we can support each other better. Being aware we’ve got some isolation, we can mitigate it as best we can socially, in writer’s groups, etc. It may be hard, but we can try – and our fellows can tell us when we’re being too cruel to ourselves.

Third, we have to remember creative support groups – writer’s groups, art jams – have to be about more than what we make. We have to talk challenges and problems in being creative and what we face. You can’t just talk word count and editing them go away. Creative people need people because hey, we’re people.

We might be in our heads because we do a lot of work there. But we can have guests and we can visit. With a little less sense of disconnection, with more people to understand, we can get more done and maybe get over those times we’re hard on ourselves.

Steven Savage

Gaming Drought, Gaming Rush, Gaming Reasons

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I love video games, but lately I had a kind of “drought.” Nothing interested me or inspired me. Sure I might load up Team Fortress 2 for the usual (setting the opposing team on fire or blasting them with automated sentries), but I wasn’t, well, inspired. Occasionally there’d be a patch to Approaching Infinity to play, but that was it.

I even wondered if this hobby of decades was over for me. Maybe it just didn’t do it for me anymore, something went unfulfilled.

Then two games came out and I suddenly found myself playing them for hours.

The first was Cobalt Core. This was a Roguelike Deckbuilder – a game where your characters are represented by a deck of cards, and you play it repeatedly, unlocking more. It presented an interesting plot, plenty of card synergies and tricks to figure out, and lots to discover. There was something “moreish” and stimulating about it.

The second was the full release of Backpack Hero (well, after a few fast patches). This game crossed inventory management and dungeon-crawling, building a plot around a fantasy kingdom and a magical backpack. Tweaking what equipment was stored where, while rebuilding a pastoral town, was also compelling and fun. Someone made a game that was sort of work and geometry very engaging (and the actual plot didn’t hurt).

I played these for hours at a time – and as of this writing still am! I felt happier, satisfied, and engaged. So of course I analyzed why.

In gaming I seek both challenge and stimulation. I want to use my mind and reflexes, think and calculate – in short, be involved. I also want something that interests and stimulates me, with stories and new ideas, wild vistas and fascinating mechanics. I leave a game having been engaged – and coming out maybe more skilled and with some new ideas.

I think good games – indeed any media – have that level of, well, connection. There’s something that brings you in and makes you leave simulated, and sort of better. Even if it’s a good belly laugh and wondering “why that movie was so bad.”

Now that I knew what to look for, I’m curious to see where my gaming journey takes me. Plus maybe I understand why I enjoy blasting the enemy team in Team Fortress 2 a little better.

Steven Savage