Reflections on Creative Fulfillment: Navigating the Urge for Fame

Crafting Art with Intention, Connection, and Wholeness

I think a lot about my internal drive for achievement, and my unconscious drive for fame.

I suppose I shouldn’t say it’s unconscious, because here I am, writing it down.

I heard Arthur Brooks talk to Dan Harris about the four idols: money, power, pleasure, and fame. 

The most dopamine comes from these not very satisfying rewards. 

But, they are so satisfying, aren’t they?

My idol, fame, isn’t quite the conventional construct. Truthfully, I don’t aspire to traditional fame; I believe it would overwhelm me. Given my chronic illness, my body could not withstand the constant demands. 

Thus, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won't be a Broadway star. 

Still, that internal drive seeking validation and the need to be "seen" often manifests as pushing too hard in relationships, agreeing to everything, and talking excessively—blah, blah, you get the idea, right?

Insert your idol here.

The main question then becomes: how do you not necessarily overcome these idols—since they never truly disappear—but learn to prevent these impulses from ruling your life?

There are two powerful mantras that help me refocus whenever I find myself trapped in the fame idol rut.

First, I frequently ask myself, "What is the simplest single action I can take right now to move towards wholeness?"

This question pulls me from the daydream of fame and redirects me towards creative work that is deeply grounding and settles my nervous system.

The second mantra I employ is to focus on creating work for one person. Although multiple groups might eventually see what I've put together, at the point of creation, my goal is to connect with one singular individual.

The intimacy of this approach shines through, fostering a connection in my work that transcends the constant desire for praise. This is mainly because my focus is on the intention of moving one person.

This isn’t to say that I don’t want my work to resonate with a larger audience—I do. It helps pay the bills, furthers me along a creative journey that is deeply thought out, and moves me towards wholeness.

Let me add one more thing that I've realized about myself: I think about my deathbed—a lot. I envision the end of my life to discern the true essence of my story. The truth is, at the end of my life, I want to have created deep, lasting grooves that resonate profoundly with others. I want my work to have moved them, to have given them something that might, in turn, propel them towards wholeness.

This contemplation is part of my creative spiritual practice: creating art that moves us towards wholeness.

What do I mean by 'wholeness'?

More on that in a future post.