An Artist Spirit in a Corporate World
As I write this, I am doing a hard pivot from a stressful work meeting to a writer’s group session that I am thirty minutes late for. My heart is pounding even though I haven’t moved in over an hour. The tension built in my shoulders feels heavy. As I enter the writer’s group, I check the clock to see the maximum amount of minutes I can be here before I need to rush to another work obligation.
The intent of this space is to hone in on the art of writing, to be in a creative flow. But I feel like a fraud today, I don’t feel like an artist at all.
The juxtaposition of these ways of being is something I’ve been grappling with for months, how to exist in the corporate world and the artist world, and what that means for me.
Growing up, I was the non-linear, spirited child who only wanted to be an actress or make movies. My parents assumed I would be a ‘starving artist’ and my sister a CEO. The word ‘starving’ to a little girl who loved ice cream did not sit well in my subconscious.
My impressionable young brain decided: Artist = wrong choice, CEO = success.
My parents meant no harm by this flippant comment. They were just repeating an age-old adage that has been romanticized in our culture.
They supported every tiny role I had in my pursuit of acting, starting with the coveted role of gingerbread man in my school’s production of The Wizard of Oz. They crafted the stories I wrote into professional-looking books. And they were so proud when I received the “Writing Achievement Award” in second grade.
But as time passed and the realities of college, AP classes, and eventual adulthood loomed, I found that ‘starving artist’ belief steering me farther and farther away from creative pursuits that had no guaranteed material success.
So I found myself in business school, which I joined because it seemed ‘practical’ and ‘correct.’ In these years at university, I honed in on having everything under control. The type A in me took over. At the beginning of the semester, I would mark every exam day in my agenda with an alarmingly bright red pen. I’d work backward from each and denote the weeks I needed to start studying to achieve my A grade.
The graduation requirements didn’t include any creativity-focused classes, so it wasn’t my focus either. I should have known my artistic spirit was begging to be let out when I became totally engrossed in my ‘Intro to Philosophy class, which I accidentally chose as an elective in a rushed enrollment window. Today, I remember more about Plato than I do about macroeconomic theories.
Eventually, I graduated with the American markers of success: a high GPA and a job in the tech industry. I fantasized about being a freelance writer traveling the world or working at a broadcasting company. But instead, I put on a pencil skirt and took the secure role that was handed to me.
In the years that followed, I developed the habit of labeling myself as “not creative.” I satisfied my deeply rooted attraction to the lifestyle through reading about other people’s artistic lives or on occasion, dating the people I wished I was (would not recommend).
Eventually, the cracks began to form at the surface of my life. I experienced burnout. The irony of following the ‘assured success’ path is that when I burnt out, I used that material gain to fund a full year of not working. I needed that time off to recover from avoiding who I really was.
That year kicked off a journey of deconditioning and self-exploration. I remembered all the things that brought me real joy and I watered the seeds I had neglected over the years.
I must also credit “The Artist Way” by Julia Cameron as a huge catalyst that transitioned me from ‘exploration’ to ‘experimentation’ in my creative pursuits.*
I’ve been rediscovering my creativity in ways I could have never imagined. I’ve been singing, writing, storytelling, gardening, and cooking. I’m realizing how fulfilled I am leaning into this side of me, which feels like a much more authentic expression of who I am. I’m at the point where I see my future career revolving around my ability to create.
Where I am now though, is in a software sales role, selling to technology departments. Yes, it’s eerily similar to what burned me out in the first place, but a girl gotta eat. It’s a great company, but couldn’t feel more opposite from the artist version of me that is crying for attention.
As the cries get louder, the contrast feels sharper. I find myself stuck between two worlds, walking on a balance beam between them.
Perhaps you’re out there walking on this same unstable line. And if you’re anything like me, you can’t afford to take the leap one way or another right now. Therefore, we must learn to find a comfortable place in the ‘in between.’
As I actively create what this looks like for me, these are the questions I’m asking myself:
What unhelpful thoughts do I have about the corporate world?
When I think about the corporate world, I think about security. Security seems like a good thing, right? Well, I discovered that when I picture the kind of security it gives me, I see a jail cell. That’s right, my subconscious belief is that the security afforded through a corporation equates to a prison. I have been resistant to the idea of allowing myself to be happy in this world and now I know why. In my subconscious, to be happy in the corporate world would be like a prisoner being indifferent about the outcome of his trial for innocence.
I’ve settled on the idea that the spirit of adventure is lost in the corporate world. I’m driven by measurable goals and outcomes that drive a bottom line. I know the outcome I must achieve. And when imagining a career growth trajectory here, it’s a linear path paved by the countless who have traveled it. Inside sales, field sales, sales manager, director, VP, and CEO. I feel my creative flow careening away just writing this.
What romanticized thoughts do I have about the artist world?
I picture the artist’s world as the free world. A place where I can be authentic, whatever authentic means to me at the moment. It’s the freedom of mobility, to be led by that inspires me. The only requirement is respect for the non-linear creative process. It’s a world of limitless possibilities and outcomes.
How can I reality-check these beliefs and make them more helpful and balanced?
Here’s the thing: this rigid black-and-white thinking isn’t helping me. Even “artist” jobs require the structure of corporate assembly sometimes. And corporations have plenty of benefits that I am choosing to overlook. Life is a balance and to believe that you have to be one thing or another to be happy isn’t helpful.
I can choose a path where I oscillate gracefully between these two worlds. Making it a dance instead of a war.
What do I appreciate about where I am today?
I’m a believer that life is about enjoying the journey. What is the destination, really? As a student of Buddhism, I have to remember the fundamental cause of suffering is the seeking of what we don’t have. The true path to happiness is continuously connecting with inner peace.
I’m reminding myself that I can still strive to be in a new place in the future, but the prerequisite to that is knowing that my happiness is not dependent on getting there.
I know I’m one of countless individuals in this same situation. So I share my origin story of how I got here in the hopes of inspiring new ideas and thoughts from others. Hopefully, we can share our learnings and support each other on this ever-winding, thorny path.