Most leaders, inventors, and cutting edge thinkers probably wouldn’t consider themselves “artists.” In fact, most of us who actually work in the creative arts become a bit queasy at the mere mention such a word. It tastes arrogant in our mouths and drips with pretention. This is because we all have that picture in our heads of what the classic “artist” looks like. The plaid-wearing vegan who can only be told apart from his girlfriend because he has thicker facial hair than her. Or the walking fashion statement who wouldn’t be caught dead in Starbucks or listening to anything on I-tunes. Too mainstream.

Sadly, this is the majority view of what an “artist” is, and if you ask me, that’s fine. If the worldview is going to be limiting, then I don’t need to be an artist, and neither do you. I’m much more interested in being an innovator, in bringing about change. You don’t have to be an artist to spark change, but you do have to create art. There is no typecast that can be done for those who create art. Art is no longer confined to the “artist.” In fact, it never has been.

Art is a work produced by human creative skill and imagination.

The memo that changed the way your company does business…art.

The fundraiser organized by the twelve-year-old to support cancer research…art.

The mother who holds a Wednesday afternoon “book club” in order to make her kid’s mandatory summer reading more fun…art.

Society loves to put boundaries on what an artist can and cannot be. They put a face on it and say, “This is what an artist looks like.” But you cannot put a face on art. Ground breaking creators like Howard Schultz, Mother Teresea, and Albert Einstein have very little in common, and they certainly do not fit the classic artist stereotype. What they do have in common though, is they used their creative skill and imagination to usher in a new way of looking at the world.

This is the opportunity that awaits us every single day, to make art, no matter what we dress, sound, act, or look like.

The prefrontal cortex of your brain is a very tricky place. This section helps with decision-making and moderating social behaviors, or what physiologists call “executive functions”. While most of us hold such functions as highly important, studies have shown that this particular part of the brain can actually inhibit creative or imaginative thought. These executive functions are what we use to rule out irrelevant possibility. In other words, they’re what tell us that a golf club is a golf club, and not a cane; or that a bicycle has two wheels, and could never have one.

There in lies the barrier that keeps us from our most imaginative thoughts. Creativity can only happen when we make the choice to explore irrelevant possibilities. The idea of a unicycle was completely irrelevant until someone decided to take one of the wheels off of a bicycle. It seemed crazy. It was scandalous. It certainly wasn’t “right” or “socially acceptable.” But neither were people like Henry Ford, Steve Jobs, Martin Luther King Jr. and Jesus of Nazareth.

When we’re seeking to harness the power of imagination, more often than not what is right or socially acceptable will actually get in our way. I’m not saying that we need to become completely uncivilized in order to be innovative. But we must remember that creativity is not the ability to do things right or follow the rules. Creativity is the ability to see things differently and make your own rules. Creativity is the active choice to rebel against our executive functions from time to time and to throw down the status quo. Creativity is creating our own status quo.

In today’s world of social media and personal brands everybody has a voice. We can type something on our phone as we walk down the street, and simply by clicking “Tweet” “Share” “Post” or “Send” we can make what we’ve said available for the entire world to see.

The only issue with everyone having a voice is that often means that everyone is talking, and if everyone is talking, then no one is listening. This creates a problem for those of us who are trying to build a platform and a message out.

I’ve read the book a million times. It’s always titled, “How to Get Your Voice Heard Over the Noise of the Internet” or something like that. The book always says the same thing—You get heard by saying something remarkable, by adding something noteworthy into the conversation, and by appealing to your specific audience.

This is obviously true, but how are we supposed to know what’s remarkable and what’s not? Do we just magically understand what it is our audience wants? How do we know what to say? This answer is not in the book, but it couldn’t be simpler.

Listen.

We live in an age where everyone is talking, but you’ll never say anything worth noting unless you take the time to listen as well. In listening, we begin to hear what people want, what they’re missing, and what they’re groaning for. We no longer need to ask what our audiences, families, employees, or customers want, because they are broadcasting it in each and every tweet and Facebook post.

You want to create something that people will love? You want people to start hearing your ideas?

1)         Listen
2)        Create (based off of what you’ve heard)
3)         Start talking

People will listen.

We all have people who serve as great inspiration to us. They’re the ones we’re always reading, listening to, retweeting, and quoting to the point where our friends and family grow tired of hearing it. But do you ever wonder how your inspirations stay inspired? Did you ever wonder if you could possibly play a role in keeping them inspired? Did you know that you could be your greatest inspiration’s greatest inspiration?

For any artist, leader, entrepreneur, or businessperson, the act of creating something new is, by itself, a truly rewarding experience. We create because we love the work. Nothing can compare though, to the rush one gets when their work is understood and appreciated by a third party.

Now I’m not saying that we should create solely for the approval of others. And I certainly don’t claim to be anyone’s greatest influence, but I do know the humbling joy of receiving an email, message, or text from a reader who has been touched or changed by something I have written or said. These “thank you notes” often serve as greater inspiration than any ‘creative spark’ or long walk down the beach ever could.

A creator’s work is always done with her audience’s best interest in mind. Whether she’s a business CEO or stay-at-home-mom, she works and slaves over her creation, hoping that her children or her employees might be positively affected by it. In the end, all of the backbreaking, mind-splitting work is worth it for those two simple words, “Thank you.” Those words stand as an inspiring reminder that she has made a difference, and that is sure to add much fuel to creative fire.

So say, “thank you” to one of your inspirations today. You can never underestimate the power of that phrase. When used in a genuine way, those words could help you become your greatest inspiration’s greatest inspiration.

The opposite of creativity is not a lack of ideas, inspiration, or artistic ability. The opposite of creativity is pessimism. For those of us who long to discover our creative super powers, pessimism is our kryptonite. It is determined to tear us down.

Pessimism is determined to make all bad ideas, stay bad ideas. But if we quit on every bad idea, then we would never get any good ideas.

Pessimism is determined to keep us from moving forward. But creation is a one-way street on which we can only drive forward, into the future.

Pessimism is determined to paralyze up with fear. It whispers in our ear, trying to tell us that the risk is too big. But in reality, the biggest risk would be to listen to the pessimist and not risk at all.

So what is our alternative to pessimism? We cannot avoid it completely, but how can we drive it out? We turn away pessimism through the use of words such as ‘Yes’ ‘And’ and ‘Okay’ instead of ‘Wait’ ‘But’ and ‘No.’ Cut a vine off at it’s root and it will no longer grow. Turn an idea down flat (‘wait’ ‘but’ ‘no’) and the idea is dead. Prune the vine in just the right places and it might produce some pretty delicious fruit. Actively engage to improve someone else’s idea (‘yes’ ‘and’ ‘okay’) and you might just create something incredible.

In our organizations, friend circles, even in our own minds, we rarely miss a pessimist. When they’re gone it’s almost like a weight has been lifted. Ideas can run wild once again and the creative atmosphere has been restored. Turn away pessimism today. Take the high road of collaboration, generosity, and optimism. You might just discover that you have super powers.

Last week, I was on the subway when I noticed a man across from me wielding a drawing pencil and a sketchpad. He was unassuming enough, looking a bit like Joe Pesci from Home Alone. But this particular man was drawing quite a bit of attention (ignore the bad pun). There was no crowd per say, just a few stolen glances from those sitting and standing around him trying to catch a glimpse of whatever he was working on. Needless to say, I was curious.

When the next stop came, I made my move. I got up from my seat and stood, holding onto the bar just over his head. I was right next to him. It was the perfect seat. As I secretly watched him work, I quickly noticed he wasn’t creating any gigantic masterpiece, just sketching a hand here or a face there. He never spent more than a subway stop or two on a single sketch before moving on.

Every time he set his pencil down on a fresh corner of the page to start something new, I found myself guessing what it was he was creating. Every time this happened though, all I could make out was just a series of lines and swirls that, to me, made not logistical sense. This man, however, kept cool and calm, never once pausing or stopping to figure out where he was going next. He didn’t need to. I may have been confused, but he knew exactly what he was doing.

Then out of nowhere, as if I were arriving late for the party, the image would come into focus for me—a hand, a child, a footprint. It usually became clear just before ole’ Joe Pecsi would finish the doodle and move on to the next one.

To the outside eye, ninety-percent of the creative process is just a series of blurred lines or dashes of lead on paper. It’s only in those few moments of clarity that we get to see clearly what the artist has been seeing in his head all along. In these moments, we are blessed enough to experience what I now call, an unforeseen collision with beauty.

God works as the ultimate artist, the creator of all good things, and He’s still creating to this day. In every single one of our lives, God is in the process of doodling a new sketch. With our untrained, outside eyes, God’s movement in our lives often looks like nothing more than blurred lines and pointless squiggles. There is no sense to it, and we spend most of our time living in the uncertainty of a sketch that is yet unfinished. We cannot even fathom what God is trying to create in us. But every now and then comes a moment of clarity where the image becomes clear, and we have a collision with grace, with love, or with hope. When we trust the Creator, we encounter a clear image made up of a bunch of blurred lines, and it is always beautiful.

If all artists are trees, then all critics are lumberjacks. Okay, maybe not all critics. Some critics, the best kind, are gardeners. Gardeners look at a creative work with the artist’s best interests in mind. They prune here and snip there in the hopes of making that artist’s work more fruitful.

What a beautiful world it would be if all critics were gardeners. Unfortunately, there are still many lumberjacks out there. The lumberjack is the voice of the harmful critic, the one that does not have the artist’s best interests in mind. The lumberjack comes with one thing in mind, to cut stuff down.

Here’s the reality, if we’re going to create, we’re going to encounter lumberjacks, especially if we wish to create something of substance. The minute we put ourselves out there the axes start swinging. And given enough time, they will inevitably hit their mark and cut us down. It sounds scary, and it can be very painful, but it doesn’t have to be so devastating.

Here’s the upside for the trees. If a tree is cut down, even all the way down to it’s trunk, it can sprout again. What sustains a tree, what gives it life and this resurrecting power is not it’s branches or it’s fruit, it’s the roots. The roots are hidden under the ground where the lumber ax cannot swing. With each passing day these roots are watered, causing them to grow deeper and create an increasingly firm foundation for the tree.

The artist who finds his full identity in the things he creates is like a tree with shallow roots. The lumberjacks will swing, cut him down, and easily uproot him. The artist with deep roots, the one whose identity is found in who she is rather than what she does has no fear of the lumberjacks. Cut down her work— she will rise again. Swing away at her all you want, you cannot change who she is.

The trees that are afraid of lumberjacks never grow. The artists that are afraid of critics never create. Do away with the fear today. Let them try and cut you down. Let them succeed even. They cannot change who you are.

“Every artist struggles to find their voice.” I’ve heard this said time and time again, in conversation, in movies, even in my own head. The search for one’s artistic voice always sounded like such a pretentious, mythological, spiritual journey to me. I used to think things like, “Once I experience real loss or tragedy, then I’ll find my voice” or, “I just need to see more of the world, then I’ll know what to say and how to say it.” Unless I went on some sort of retreat across the country where I lived in a van and slept under the stars, then I would never truly understood who I was as a creative being. While this may be true for some people, I don’t think these things are common denominators when it comes to finding our voice.

In thinking about this topic the other day, I couldn’t help but be brought back to Genesis 1. Famously referred to as the creation poem, it begins with a God whose first action is to create the heavens and the earth. How does God go about this? If we look down just a bit into verse three, we see the second action God takes, “and God said…”

He speaks.

Those words are repeated ten times in this first chapter, precluding each and every piece of the creative puzzle, thus bringing order out of chaos. This is how the entire universe was created, through the voice of the original Creator.

The artistic voice is a longing to create what does not yet exist, and therefore bring order out of the chaos that this life can be.

The elementary school teacher finds her voice in creating new ways for her students to learn the skills that will be the basis for their higher education. The creators of Twitter found their voice in creating a way for everyone, even those across the world from one another, to quickly connect and enter into conversation.  The neighbor finds his voice in offering a neighborhood carpool to work, which not only will help the families in his community financially, but will also lead to new, lasting friendships.

Finding your voice does not necessarily mean finding the right words to say. Finding your voice means finding a wrong to make right. Finding your voice means creating something out of nothing. Finding your voice means acting on the impulse deep within saying, “Go ahead, speak up.” The world will be better because you did.

“I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck, I suck.” Every artist has this voice in their head at one time or another, as does every Christian. We constantly remind ourselves that we are not enough. We’re so quick to recall our “failed works” or “bad deeds,” and we obsess over how, once again, our talents have fallen short, or our righteousness could have, and should have, been better. This is the voice of self-deprecation, and it’s everywhere.

“I am amazing, I am incredible, I don’t need anyone or anything because I have all the talents, power, and strength needed to be the best.” Every artist has this voice in their head at one time or another, as does every Christian. This is harder to admit for most of us, but this voice sometimes can be even louder and more present than the previous one. We build ourselves up with fluffy words about our own artistic genius. We play the “who’s a better Christian” by wearing our mission work and our memorized verses around our neck like some medal. This is the voice of self-righteousness, and it’s everywhere.

These two voices exist on the opposite ends of the spectrum, and somewhere in-between them lies the land of humility. Humility is difficult to define, and even more difficult to cultivate. Humility exists somewhere between self-deprecating and self-righteous, and it only emerges once we take ‘self’ out.

Humility is living in constant awareness that we are not most important, God is.

Humility is also living in constant awareness that we are not un-important, because God has chosen us, and wants to use out gifts and talents to spread the message of Jesus to this broken world.

Humility is living in constant awareness that we have failed, sinned, and fallen short of greatness.

Humility is also living in constant awareness that we have been cleansed from that sin by the grace of Jesus, and those failures, both in art and in faith, only exist in order for us to learn from them and to help serve God and make the world a better place.

Humility is living in constant awareness that we are not the best, but the power of the One who is truly best lives inside us, which means we will never be the worst again.

I think the verse above can be best explained by a balloon and a skyscraper.

The balloon is puffed up with hot air. It floats around and looks pretty for a while, but it is extremely fragile. The balloon will easily pop with even the slightest prodding from a needle.

Could you imagine trying to take down a skyscraper with a needle? The skyscraper is meticulously planned out by a team of architects. It has a strong foundation and is built using teamwork, steel, and sweat. The skyscraper takes a lot longer to create than the balloon, but it will certainly last much longer.

We live in a world of balloons. The parent who only focuses on discipline, never actually talking to his child is a balloon, puffed up because  “he know what’s best.” The business leader who fires anyone who dares to challenge her authority is a balloon, puffed up by her business degree and superior position. The religious system that turns away “sinners” and “backsliders” is a balloon, puffed up on their own morality. One thing they have in common? They’re all afraid of needles.

In this life, needles come at us in the form of challenges, trials, and setbacks. These challenges constantly poke at us to see what we’re really made of, to see if we’re puffed up on our own knowledge, or if we’re building what we have on love. Knowledge is a powerful tool, and it can puff up some pretty impressive balloons. But without love, knowledge will never be anything more. If our identity is found in what we know, or what we’ve achieved, then we’ll never create anything of lasting significance.

The best parents, the strongest businesses, and the true followers of Christ build their life on love. They have no fear of needles, because their identity is found in something much stronger than any challenge this life may bring. Love builds skyscrapers, and skyscrapers have lasting significance.

What are you creating with your time, gifts, and influence? Are you puffing up balloons with what you know and what you’ve accomplished? Or are you creating with love, and building skyscrapers?