There are often two reasons for a prolonged silence on a platform like this. Either I’ve been busy with “the Work”, or I’ve been drowning in the work I have to do outside of “the Work.”
In this case, it’s both.
For the last month, I’ve been busy recording a four-episode season of my children’s stories podcast, Lightcatchers. I wrote each of these stories last year, and have spent a lot of time honing them, editing them, and trying them out on my kids.
I wanted this season to be a step up, production-wise, from the previous season, so it’s taken me longer to make them…which is time I otherwise would have spent spamming you with my thoughts on writing and doing the work of creativity as a working adult.
I will write more soon about the current season. This will mainly include my reflections on spending thirty-some years developing the craft of songwriting to now be using it to write pirate songs for kids and why I genuinely love it. The work I do on the Lightcatchers podcast is some of the most fulfilling and fun creative work I’ve done over the last few years, so I’m really excited to share it with you.
Despite doing some of my favorite creative work over the last month with the podcast, it has also been some of the hardest months I’ve experienced as a professional navigating the balance between creative work and work that pays money.
Work has slowed due to the economy, which as a freelancer is a scary reality. I’ve had to go into hyperdrive regarding business development, taking on whatever work I can find, applying to anything I can, trying different revenue streams, and ending the day often beating my head against a wall feeling the weight of freelance silence. (Things have started to pick back up, but oh man.)
And then there’s the deeper struggle of identity and meaning. I’m working and stressing over a job that I only do because the Work I’m called to do isn’t something that can pay bills or mortgages (yet). Not to get too intense about it all, but there has been a constant and felt fear that being deeply called to the long obedience of creative work is just a curse. It would be easier to see the world and just say, “cool.” Part of the challenge of art is that is driven by a holy discontent. There is no “cool” when you look at the world. There is only a longing and hope that something beautiful can come from this mess. Some might call it a kingdom longing that is felt under everything, all the time.
I actually did start writing a substack a few weeks ago, but within a few paragraphs of writing, I had to wonder why I would just send my sadness into your inbox, and thus never sent it.
I don’t intend to send my sadness into your inbox now. I believe that the struggle of work and the Work is an opportunity to step into what makes the Work of writing or painting or filmmaking or music or any of the other creative things important. We do all of this to make the world a little less bad and a little more beautiful. We raise our fists and create even while also feeling the weight of stressing over emails and timelines and KPIs and budget approvals and shoe sales and product launches and all the other inane things that pay the bills. We will create, damnit.
All that said, sorry for the silence for the last month. If you have kids, or if you like pirates, check out my podcast and get to know Bob the Bad Pirate. He sings when he’s scared and, despite his best efforts, is really not good at being a pirate.