Knowing what you want to say and how you want to say it.
Building the structure of your project, the moments that build on each other, priorities, short-term, mid-term, and long-term goals. The journey you want to take your team on…
The feel you want it to have, the risks, the courage needed, the details you need to go into, the work plan, and the qualities you want to attain. The network and systems you need in place, your partners, in your workspace, and outside of it… This is a long list.
All these and much more go into the writing of a creative project.
Creating something new is a complex process. You usually tremble when you finally get out of the workspace and into the real world to present your work. You’re not sure how it will go. There’s an inherent risk in being a creator.
In the circus, when you create and perform, there’s a triple risk you need to face in the discipline you use, your body’s agility and technique, your instrument, where your mind, of course, is also put to the test.
In the presentation, you are in a fight or flight mode, but you must remain and do your thing. Stand behind what you have created. Doubts, possible criticism, pain, physical or other, all notwithstanding, you cannot flee when you finally present the work.
What about when you start the journey to that moment? Are you entirely there with your doubts? Even before understanding what you have embarked on? How would you know?
You may try to modestly defend yourself against your own thoughts, pretending you’re not trying to change anyone’s life or the world, as if making a difference is not part of your mission. Deep down inside, you know, it’s a trap, a catch-22 kind of thing. This burning desire inside of you to matter will surely not let you go before you try.
That’s the key, write, if only for yourself, even if no one else ever reads it.
It creates order and lets things you hold inside you out into the world. You can release them and proceed in becoming who you want to be.