Pause

The guilt of not creating shows up in many forms: the fear of wasting potential, the urge to use my tools efficiently, the envy of creators who publish often, or the belief that I’m letting down my audience.

Sometimes that guilt helps. It can pull me out of a rut. I might even call it guilt-powered inspiration. It helps me find my flow.

But other times, it holds me back.

I create for play, not for work. When I create out of guilt, it becomes work, and the joy disappears.

Flow is not endless. Creativity eventually runs dry. If I let guilt push me to keep producing, I stop doing justice to my art.

Sharing my work is an option, not an obligation. People who love my work will stay fans of the work itself, not the timing of when I share it. I serve them best by putting out my best, and my best never comes from guilt.

Creating takes mental space. Like any craft, it can lead to burnout. If guilt forces me to keep going, what I make will not be my best. I’ll be creating because I have to, not because I want to. My drive will fade, and eventually I’ll want to stop altogether.

In those moments, the best thing I can do is pause. Even when I’m not creating, I’m still absorbing — noticing, learning, and collecting inspiration from the world around me. That quiet intake fuels what comes next.

A pause is not failure. It’s how I refuel.