Creative Burnout or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love to Knit by Frank L Tybush V (@FLTV_Writes)

Years ago, I saw a video of Damian Kulash from the band, OK Go, talking about why he makes ceramics as a hobby (I don’t know where the video is now, I would share it if I did). In the video, he said that the constant pressure to make the next record, or the next big video, caused him to feel burnout. He turned to a hobby that he never planned on selling to relieve his stress.

I could relate, even if it took me time to take this advice to heart.

At that point in my life, I had been working as a Creative Director for a production company for a few years.  All creative time was spent creating for other people. That may sound amazing, and for a while it was, but dealing with clients, deadlines and quotas quickly burned me out. This activity I once loved, creating videos, turned into something I dreaded. Each time I wrote a script, I would agonize over whether the client would like it. Each time I would edit a video, I would wonder if that CEO who hired us had a problem with straight cuts and instead preferred fades.

The stress brought me to a breaking point, a point that I have not been able to recover from. I no longer work as a Creative Producer. I jumped jobs, leaving childhood dreams of filmmaking and 18 years of experience behind. I couldn’t do it anymore, and still can’t.

Now I write for a living (with some photography, web-design and marketing sprinkled in for variety). I write tech and healthcare articles for a living while fostering personal writing projects that I hope to publish.

I didn’t want to fall into the same trap that I did with filmmaking.

I love to write. I love to create worlds and characters. I am at some of my happiest when I’m sitting at my computer, music on, transcribing the images in my head into words on the screen.

And as time went on, the doubts started coming back, and I found it harder and harder to just write and enjoy it. Thoughts started creeping in, like a childhood bully you thought you left behind: “Will my boss like this article?” “Will this book be good enough to get an agent?” “Is this even worth it?”

That’s when I thought back to that video with Damian Kulash. I decided I needed a hobby that I would never monetize. I needed a creative hobby that was just for me. I started by learning to play the ukulele, but I worried my neighbors would forever hate me, because try as it might, I can’t sing quietly. I still play, but not as frequently as I’d like.

 I decided I needed a hobby that I would never monetize. I needed a creative hobby that was just for me.

Then I turned to knitting. It started out frustrating, but once I got the hang of it, I felt more and more calm. It also rekindled something in me…my creative spark. I could do something creative, like make my fifth scarf, and I was not beholden to anyone else. No one’s opinion mattered. I laughed at my awful first attempt and didn’t stress when my third attempt got a bit wonky. I didn’t stress because I wasn’t selling it. The quality didn’t matter one bit.

You may say, “good, great, you’re happy making weird scarves, what does that matter to me, the writer?”

The joy I receive from knitting has helped to quell the anxiety, stress, and fear that permeated my time writing. Now, whenever writer’s block tries to grab hold of my creativity, I step away, pick up the needles, and stitch a few rows. In no time, the block has subsided, and I’m usually sprinting back to furiously type out the scene that just played in my head.

Now, whenever writer’s block tries to grab hold of my creativity, I step away, pick up the needles, and stitch a few rows.

I cannot imagine going back to a time when all my creativity swirled with fear and anxiety. For a creative professional, it’s awful and harmful.

I heartily suggest to everyone who creates for money, even if it’s money you haven’t received yet (I’m looking at all the yet-to-be-signed writers out there), that you pick up a creative hobby that you have no intention of ever selling. It will do your mind and your creativity wonders.

Plus, I know what every one of my family members are getting this year for the holidays…an exclusive, handmade scarf.

If you enjoyed this piece, please follow Frank L Tybush V on Twitter @FLTV_Writes.