One of the most interesting questions I have asked myself recently is this: “Does an old belief need to disappear, or is it something that deserves to be understood in a new way?”
I think that’s such a gentle shift in perspective. So many of us carry an old story about ourselves. I’m not enough, I’m not clever enough, I’m too much, not enough, too late, too different or I’m an imposter. We believe that before we can move forward, we have to somehow eliminate those feelings. But what if the goal isn’t to erase them? What if the real work is learning to recognise them when they arrive, greet them with compassion, and choose not to let them drive the bus? That’s a very different way of living.
I see this all the time in the creative process. Writers and artists I work with often believe they’re stuck because they lack talent, discipline or inspiration. More often than not, they’re stuck because an old belief has quietly resurfaced. The inner critic gets louder, confidence shrinks, and suddenly the blank page feels impossible.
Yet creativity has a wonderful way of inviting us into relationship with these parts of ourselves. When we stop fighting the old story and simply notice it. “Ah, there you are again”, we then create space for curiosity. From that place, the work begins to flow again. Not because the fear has disappeared, but because it no longer gets to make the decisions.
Perhaps that’s one of the unexpected gifts of a creative life. It doesn’t ask us to become fearless; it asks us to become kinder. Every time we return to the page despite our doubts, every time we choose to create instead of waiting to feel confident, we’re quietly writing a new story. Not just on the paper, but within ourselves. Over time, we discover that creativity isn’t about not having wounds from the past. It’s about learning that those old wounds don’t have to silence our voice. Sometimes they even deepen it.
