There’s an intoxicating allure to the notion of genius — this idea that a great writer wakes up, rolls out of bed, and effortlessly composes a masterpiece. It’s a myth many of us buy into, and it’s utterly paralysing. But what if the secret sauce to creativity isn’t genius but permission? Permission, not just to create, but to create absolute rubbish.

Ten days ago, I sent my manuscript to an editor. Since then, I’ve written next to nothing worth reading. But why? A recent article by James Clear, titled “How to Find Your Hidden Creative Genius,” pried open my eyes. My creativity was strangled because I was obsessing over the quality of my book instead of just getting on with the act of writing.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’ve been more productive lately than I’ve been in a decade. That’s not a humblebrag; it’s a fact. So, what happened? Why the sudden inertia?

Your License to Craft Crap

There’s a vivid image we conjure up about successful writers. They sit at their desks, radiant, brimming with self-assured talent, and bang out impeccable prose. But as James Clear puts it, this picture is “the fantasy of the uninitiated.” Every writer I respect, even the ones you’d call wildly successful, wrestles with self-doubt. The first drafts? They’re atrocious.

Why? Because in any creative endeavour, you’ve got to allow yourself the freedom to churn out drivel. Sometimes it takes four god-awful pages to produce one brilliant sentence tucked away in an obscure paragraph. But that’s where the gold is.

The act of creation is a bit like being a miner. It’s not all glitter and nuggets. No, you’re ankle-deep in sludge, sifting through tons of detritus to find that precious speck of gold. That stroke of genius will only come if you give yourself carte blanche to let your creative juices flow, even if what comes out initially is more mud than Eureka.

Walking My Talk

You’d think I’d have known better. My upcoming book is a manual for turning your life around, filled with lessons on the cruciality of action and the unimportance of perfection. Yet here I was, frozen, ignoring my own wisdom.

Nobody’s infallible. Sometimes, we all need that kick up the arse to get moving again. And for that, I tip my hat to James Clear. His work serves as a timely reminder to grant myself, and you, the permission to create rubbish.

In Gratitude to Those Who Kick Us into Gear

James Clear’s blog is an invaluable trove of insight into mastering habits, boosting health, and unleashing creativity. For those hungry for practical wisdom, his newsletter is worth its weight in gold.

So, in a nutshell, I was my own roadblock. I was so fixated on crafting the perfect sentence, the perfect piece, that I became creatively constipated. Time to take my own medicine: stop fearing mistakes and just bloody write.

What’s holding you back? What do you need to give yourself permission to do?

I highly recommend James Clears blog, and I’ve got to say thank you for giving me the permission to create junk!

James Clear writes at JamesClear.com, where he uses behavior science to share ideas for mastering your habits, improving your health, and increasing your creativity. To get useful ideas on improving your mental and physical performance, join his free newsletter.