What if “I’m just not a creative person” is the biggest lie you’ve ever told yourself?

Let’s be honest: that “practical” persona you’ve been wearing like a badge of honor? It’s not just killing your joy, it’s quietly draining your creative energy, flattening your ingenuity, and leaving your business stranded in the “meh” zone.

So, why keep booking roundtrips to Resentmentville when you could be living it up on your own private creative oasis?

The truth is creativity isn’t a luxury reserved for eccentric geniuses or the lucky few. It’s the lifeblood of your health, happiness, and entrepreneurial edge. 

Deny it, and you risk burnout, blandness, and a business that’s as forgettable as last year’s viral meme.

This week, I’m handing you the boarding pass to creative renewal. 

In this week’s letter, you’ll discover how to:

Ready to trade practical for powerful? Let’s get started.

If your self-care routine consists of you “Netflix and chilling”, it's probably time to make some changes.

You know you’re running on fumes, but between deadlines and adulting, actual rest feels as achievable as teleportation. 

Here’s the truth: Self-care isn’t about adding more to your plate, it’s about creatively repurposing what’s already on it.

Here’s a step-by-step guide on what I mean and how to do it.

Your body isn’t subtle. It’s been sending you Morse code via headaches and 3 AM doomscrolls. 

But instead of waiting for a full-system meltdown, let’s play detective:

Creativity Tip: Use your camera roll for clues. After seeing that photo of your limp salad lunch…Is your body whispering, “Feed me something that didn’t come from a drive-thru bag.”

Let’s forget about pricey retreats for the moment (although I’m not against them by any stretch of the imagination).

Sustainable self-care happens in the cracks of your chaos. 

Here’s how to seamlessly add it into your day:

Shower = Therapy Session: Turn your 7-minute rinse into a sensory reset.

DIY Desk Yoga:

5-4-3-2-1 Grounding: When overwhelmed, name…
5 things you see → 4 textures you feel → 3 sounds you hear → 2 smells → take 1 deep breath

Podcast Walks: Loop your block while listening to literally anything that isn’t work-related.

Swap the $7 latte for a DIY golden milk (turmeric + almond milk + honey). Your liver will thank you.

Repurpose old socks. Fill one with rice, microwave it for 90 seconds and voila, an instant heating pad for tense shoulders (or you could just buy a reusable heating pad).

Let’s start with a harsh truth…Your “creative struggle” isn’t noble, it’s a scam. 

Society sold you a lie that great art requires martyrdom; that you must bleed on the page, starve in a garret, or cry into your third espresso to prove you’re a real creator. 

The unfortunate truth is Van Gogh died penniless and Sylvia Plath stuck her head in an oven. Suffering doesn’t make you creative, it just makes you dead (sooner rather than later).

Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic is a manifesto for outsmarting the martyr complex and embracing your inner trickster. Here’s how you can play the creativity game and actually enjoy it.

Martyrdom is creativity’s toxic ex. It whispers:

Spoiler alert…Martyrs end up as losers. They burn out, resent their work, and end up forgotten not because their work wasn’t good, but because nobody cares how much you suffered. The world rewards results, not relics.

Tricksters don’t fight the system, they gamify it. Liz gives a nod to her friend the radio personality Caroline Casey who said: “Better a trickster than a martyr be.” 

Here’s your three-step framework for outwitting creative angst.

Society conditioned you to believe creativity is a rare gift for the chosen few. That’s boiled baloney! (Side note, baloney sucks! Argue with a dietician.) 

You’ve been creative since birth. You just need to be reminded of that fact.

Start introducing yourself as the creator you already are. You deny yourself the title because you don’t yet have the tangible success you feel society requires. And you’ll never have the success if you won’t even give yourself permission to exist in that space in the first place. So, try this on for size:

Liz’s Rule: “Proclaim your creativity loudly, then let reality catch up.”

Creativity Tip: Write your artist bio today for the self you’ll be in five years.

Your fear of judgment is just evolution’s outdated processing system. 

We’re hardwired to fear ostracism, but in 2025 getting “canceled” just means temporary free publicity.

People’s attention spans are shorter than a TikTok dance trend, so post that weird painting and share that vulnerable essay. 

The embarrassment you fear? It’ll be buried under cat videos by lunch. 

But on the flip side, a viral 15 minutes of fame moment might just be the spark you need even though you’re doing your best to hide from it.

Liz says it best: “Your job is to create, not control how it’s received.”

Tricksters treat creativity like a game, not a gladiator arena. You’re not in a competitive fight to the death with other creators. 

Your only goal is to allow room for inspiration. Once it shows up, you use it to articulate your own unique perspective on any topic you choose.

Because, after all, originality is a myth. “All ideas are secondhand, consciously or unconsciously.” says Liz. There’s no need to stew in guilt over “repurposing” someone else’s content because they probably did the same. It feels original because their perspective (as well as your own) always is.

Martyrs are rigid but tricksters are fluid. When you treat creativity as play…

I’ll leave you with this final quote from Ms. Gilbert and it goes like this: “The universe buries jewels in us, then watches to see if we’ll dig.”    

Do you have a digital course that you’ve been banging your head against the wall trying to figure out how to sell?

Your digital course isn’t selling because it’s another “meh” brown cow in a field of identical brown cows. Your course isn’t bad, it’s just boring. 

Allow me to introduce (or reintroduce) you to Seth Godin’s Purple Cow: the art of being so remarkable people can’t help but point and scream, “Did you see that?!”

Let’s dive into how you can turn your course from a snooze-fest to a must-have using the example of an AI content marketing course.

Imagine driving past endless fields of identical brown cows. Now picture one purple cow. That’s your course.

Seth Godin’s core idea is simple…Safe is risky. 

In a world where 7,000 courses launch daily, blending in = zero sales. 

Your only shot is to create something so creatively fascinating, it practically sells itself.

Here are a couple of real-world examples:

Can you see now what your goal should be? 

Make your course the iPhone of the content marketing space.

Forget “AI for marketers.” That’s brown cow territory. 

Go hyper-niche: “AI-Powered LinkedIn Ghostwriting for B2B SaaS Founders Who Hate Writing”

Why it works:

Purple cows aren’t for everyone, they’re for the obsessed. 

Godin says: “If no one’s offended, you’re not remarkable enough.”

Here’s an example of this: “Forgetabout ‘authentic content’. My AI framework helps you clone the writing style of top-performing CEOs (ethically, of course).” 

Why it works:

Design your course to force sharing:

Let’s say you’re creating a course called “ChatGPT to Cashflow: The AI Content Blueprint for Ghostwriters”.

Step 1: Niching Down & Laser Focus Your Marketing

Step 2: Embed “Remarkability” in Every Module

Step 3: Turn Students into Evangelists

Remember: Purple cows aren’t born, they’re engineered. Your course isn’t just a product; it’s a conversation starter (preferably with your ideal client 😉). 

Now go make something worth arguing about!

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Stay Masterful,
Caroline