What mental gymnastics do you undergo when deciding whether to do something that feels creatively risky?
Surely you’re hyper-aware that you have something to lose if you pursue a particular course of action involving your art, whatever form that takes. Any number of treasures may be at stake, including your:
Peace of mind.
Ego.
Reputation.
Privacy.
Safety.
Self-confidence.
Mental health.
That’s potentially a lot to put on the line when you’re deciding whether to, say, share your new novel chapters, self-publish a book, pitch your artwork to a store or gallery, submit for publication or a contest, launch a new business, or call yourself an “artist” out loud.
So no wonder contemplating a risky action or decision makes your heart pound, disrupts your sleep, or induces analysis-paralysis (do nothing to stay safe!).
Your very being—your self-concept—feels like it’s being held up for judgement or inspection. You’re like an underwear garment flapping on the backyard clothesline for all to see.
In other words, taking creative risks makes us feel incredibly exposed.
Each time I contemplate a risky endeavor, my mental gymnastics have me ticking through this checklist of stakes. And because I’ve done this so much over the last several years, I’ve made some fascinating discoveries about the nature of creative risk itself and risk-taking.
The very act of taking creative risks in bulk (aisle 16 at Costco?) has changed me—for the better.
Let me share some insights (aided by some research to make me sound smart). Perhaps these will resonate with you—or inspire you to adopt them.
1. Creativity itself enlarges your capacity to take risks.
Anyone who makes something from nothing, from music to magic tricks, is embarked on a creative act that by its very nature is built upon risk. Creating is the act of taking chances, of experimenting, of failing.
A painter who paints out an image for the sake of starting over has already risked erasure. A memoir writer determined to share her story with the world cannot write her story without risking vulnerability.
Risk is inherent—is baked into—every creative gesture.
“When there is risk, there must be something that is unknown or has an unknown outcome.”
Bingo: Creating is full of, is defined by, unknowns.
So perhaps you are already more of a risk-taker than you realize—simply by being a creator!
2. Don’t confuse stakes with outcomes.
It’s so easy to be cowed by the checklist of stakes (see above) that are on the chopping block when you prepare to take a creative risk that you forget that what you believe you stand to lose is not the same as the outcomes you stand to gain.
Sure, your ego may get bruised and your peace-of-mind may suffer when you receive a rejection. But incurring such risks are necessary on the road to getting published, or selling your art, or whatever the upside may be.
Creative risks are rewarded—by your own sense of joy, for starters, and eventually by others who joyfully receive and respond to your work.
Think of the stakes as coinage—the price you pay to reap the rewards (outcomes) awaiting you.
3. The more risks taken, the more risk-tolerant you become.
I came across an acronym I instantly fell in love with: BHAD. Big Hairy Audacious Goals. I’m sure you’ve already dreamed some up. They’re big, all right, and scary, and out there waiting for you to tackle.
Experience has taught me that every time I pursue another BHAD—risky, of course—the next one on the horizon appears less daunting. My chances of succeeding may not improve with each outing, but my willingness to try—and to anticipate that success is possible—grows stronger.
Put another way, the fear factor of taking creative risks diminishes with each risk you attempt. Simply by putting yourself (or your stuff) out there, you’ll find that you live to fight another day, regardless of the outcome.
You need to discover this for yourself. Begin with low-stakes risks; check your gut; and then work your way up to the BHADs.
4. Optimists and pessimists assess risks differently.
It’s important to figure out if you’re mostly a glass half-empty person or a glass half-full person because this apparently affects your perceptions about risk:
A pessimist “assigns a higher probability to undesired outcomes, and a lower probability to desired ones...”
Conversely, an optimist “assigns higher probabilities to desired outcomes, and lower probabilities to undesired ones…”
You with me? This is a profound distinction that reveals a lot about your behavior when you’re weighing a creative risk.
In unscientific terms, if your inner mantra tends toward something like everything’s going to be okay or it’ll all come right in the end, then I peg you as an optimist who’s likely go after those BHADs despite the risks involved.
But if your inner voice constantly warns that this is never going to work or you compile dire what if scenarios, where every outcome is negative, you’re less likely to go for the brass ring (a century-old concept where carousel riders had to lean out while in motion and try to grab a brass ring from a dispenser to win a prize; so, a somewhat risky endeavor).
What can the pessimist do? I refer you to No. 3, above. Take a very small risk and see how that feels. Win or lose, you will survive and discover the stakes are lower than you expected. Do it again, and then again.
Takeaways
We live in a highly punitive culture. The walls have eyes; people are watching; everyone is looking over their shoulder. We celebrate downfalls and come-downs every bit as much as we celebrate wins. We are living a version of the Roman circus, where blood sport (a bit more metaphorical now, though not by much) is highly prized and sucks up loads of attention.
In this environment, taking a risk can feel, well, riskier than ever. It’s hard to keep our risks private—and therefore, our failures too.
Yet taking risks is part of living. We all need to engage with the world to be part of the world. As Melinda Gates said, “we…believe in taking risks, because that’s how you move things along.”
I strongly encourage you to take fresh creative risks—any size, regardless of the likely outcome or your perception of the outcome. Do it for your art, for yourself, for your future.
ORDER YOUR COPY NOW!
WRANGLING THE DOUBT MONSTER: FIGHTING FEARS, FINDING INSPIRATION
“While doubt serves as a blocker that prevents many from letting loose their creative side, it is more a means of progress through to final success. Bernstein addresses this with ease and provides the reader with inspiration along the way.” —Matt Pechey, Reedsy
Thank you for this perspective. It has jolted me out of my complacence and reminded me that when I'm afraid to look stupid, or too invested, or whatever else my pessimistic brain comes up with, I'm actually facing the possibility of creating something. What a fantastic way to look at it!
Oh, this essay got me thinking. I like to pride myself as a risk-taker, go-get-em kind of person but it's occurred to me that I've been holding back lately with the excuse of needing to think things through more. There's the doubt monster - masked as "responsible" lol!