I’ve pondered a thought-provoking question: Is choosing creative freedom over a higher paycheque worth it?

Many of us grapple with this topic at some point in our careers. The allure of a stable income and financial security is undeniable. On the other hand, the joy and fulfillment that come from pursuing your passions and having the autonomy to create can be gratifying. 

We often hear stories of successful people who leapt, faced uncertainty, and emerged on the other side with no regrets. But is this the right choice for everyone? The answer might not be black and white. 

In today’s world, where side hustles and remote work are more accessible than ever, perhaps there’s a way to find a balance. We don’t have to choose one over the other entirely.  

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this! Have you ever faced this dilemma? Did you opt for financial security or follow your heart’s desire for creative freedom?

Can you have both money and creative freedom?

The online gurus say you can, and they’ll teach you- for a fee. Is that necessary?    

Pursuing personal fulfillment and creativity does not always make you money. Don’t get sucked into AI-generated titles that lure you into the idea that it’s your fault for falling short because you’re not working hard or smart enough.  

Consider an alternative belief in which you choose a more relaxed approach to life, are content with who and where you are in your creative endeavours, and are not overly concerned about monetizing your creativity.

Perhaps you are adequately grateful for all your achievements and value inner peace and personal growth more than making money—and that’s okay, my creative friend.

My subscription inbox reminded me today of my shortcomings.

I’m a big fan of Medium and Substack publication platforms. My two preferred writers are Tim Denning, a brilliant communicator, and Ayodeji Awosika, an equally talented writer. It’s simply a treat to read their works.

These inspirational guys masterfully profess, sometimes nauseatingly, a simplistic approach to making a living creating online content, primarily through writing.

They logically flow to the mantra that you, my mortal friend, can and must improve your life—bring it to a higher level of achievement and joy in these troubled times and (drum roll please)….. ta da… If the coach can do it, well, gosh, you can, too.

In other words, your life and the systems around you are broken and need fixing. You deserve a fix, and I have the most straightforward answer to all your dreams- for a fee.

Haven’t I heard that a hundred times before?

The truth is that to make money online as a coach, I must convey a similar pain/pleasure message in my writing.

The pitches hook you with the proverbial “pay me for my advice, do what I say and your problems are solved!”

They are the creatives who craft how-to stories and bring economic and life inspiration to a blank canvas.

Today, there’s no shortage of writers, self-proclaimed mentors, coaches, and gurus (pick a title) who creatively earn a living advising and entertaining the fear-induced, hope-chasing masses into cult-following frenzies of abundance and sunny days.

In all fairness, no one forces us to subscribe to or fund these ‘truth-sayers’—they’re in demand and get compensated for their efforts, insight, and value proposition—as they should!

They’ll pontificate their paradigms and online offerings for an eventual fee. The not-so-subtle message that you’re not living your life to the best of your abilities is topped off with a sprinkling of ‘you can and must do better if you want to be happy.’ 

A monthly subscription model is a good example, with aggressive tactics that lock you into a not-refundable ‘deal’ by offering a slight discount if you pay 12 months in advance.

One day, my inbox pushed me Tim Denning’s hook headline, “How to Get Ahead of 99% of People in 12 Months.“

Twenty-four hours later, I received Ayodeji’s uniquely worded article, which had a similar title to Tim’s: “How to Get Ahead of 99 Percent of People (In 6 to 12 Months).” What an odd coincidence!

They must use the same AI to generate catchy titles because I doubt they steal each other’s work — they’re professionals.

Nevertheless, kudos, guys, to the high-ranking SEO titles you curate. You’ve got my attention, which matters in today’s hyper-crowded, over-promised, under-delivered, busy self-help (for a fee) world.

Powerful AI-refined titles like these aim to lure prospects into believing something is missing in our lives and that we, the author experts, have the ideal solution. We strive to keep you reading and slowly convince you to purchase our offerings.

Oh, I’m sorry. Did I miss something, Tim and Ayodeji? I had no idea I was behind others (as your title suggests); how did you know (said sarcastically) I want to get ahead this year more than I have in the last sixty-plus years I’ve lived on planet Earth? — gosh, I must be doing something wrong, Allah.

Every time I read one of your posts, I cannot help but feel something’s missing in my life and that I must consume your how-to solution to take my life “to the next level.“  

To be clear, I love reading Tim, Ayodeji, and many other writers. Their writing styles are brilliant, and they make a ton of sense. After all, selling hope is a big business that requires little creativity except the ability to dream big and take action.    

This type of self-help writing is a classic archetype. Jungian psychology describes an archetype as “an inherited pattern of thought or symbolic imagery derived from the past collective experience  present in the individual unconscious.“ (whew, that’s a mouthful of psychobabble) Baik, S. K., & Jin Kim, E. (2012).

In other words, for ages, the consumerism archetype has said we need, want, and can’t live without a pitched solution to a problem—hence, we buy.

The ‘you can do better‘ experts are not necessarily wrong. Most offer well-intentioned advice without malice. Their advice is educational, inspiring, and entertaining.

Over the years, I’ve ingested hundreds of gallons of well-crafted get-your-shit-together advice—life’s too short. I’m not afraid to admit that halfway through the advice, I quickly get the point, lose interest, or realize that I could have figured it out without paying these self-published experts a dime.

I prefer a more relaxed approach to life and creativity (such as content creation).

I am content with my life and grateful for my achievements. I value inner peace and personal growth more than making extra money.

Don’t get me wrong—there are bills to pay, and I live in one of the most expensive cities in Canada (Toronto). Sometimes, I struggle as much as the next person—sometimes more, many times less. Life is tough.

However, I’ve figured out what I need to live a comfortable yet modest lifestyle within my means. Anything extra is a luxury that I hesitate to consume at the expense of my creative freedom.

I’ve been told I have the potential to make much more money than I currently do. A friend once told me, “You’re wasting your God-given talent being creative simply for fun.“

I’ve grown envious of people who prolifically create on-demand sustainable life-hack content. They remind us of our shortcomings while offering a paid solution to those with extra coins. These days, I’m lucky if I make .04 cents a month publishing on Medium. Who knew?

But in all fairness to the established pros, I am unwilling to put in their level of effort to become a best-selling author on Medium or Substack.

Instead, I emphasize the importance of personal fulfillment and gratitude over the constant pursuit of wealth.

Reflecting on my content creation journey, I know I can make a lot of money, but I chose a more modest path that prioritizes creative freedom.

Who doesn’t want to make a profound difference in people’s lives while self-funding their creative endeavours online? — so what gives?

I would love to match my spirit with commerce, generate buckets of online revenue while travelling abroad, and inspire a large following—and perhaps I will by the time I turn 70.

Of course, as someone’s pitch suggested, ‘It’s my fault for falling short because I’m not working hard or smart enough.‘ (Now you may eat my shut-the-f# cupcake.)

The seed of doubt, via the gurus, that somehow I’m underutilizing my true potential is planted like a tiny piece of green parsley wedged between my front teeth at an Italian wedding. It isn’t enjoyable. 

Truthfully, my ego is envious that I’m not a more prolific money-making writer like ‘those cool guys.‘

Then I chill when reminded that “Allah’s delays are not Allah’s denials!“

Is it me?

Don’t get me wrong. My issue is not that creative writers get rich selling ideas. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not putting in half the effort I should, hence not getting the same results. (so I’ll eat one of my own “shut-the-f#ck-cup cake”)

Should I blame my shortcomings on a lack of discipline or focus? I’ll likely boast that I’m already financially independent (I am) and choose to write simply for fun and satisfaction rather than moolah.

I’m hesitant to pay an online mentor coach for their brilliant advice because I don’t lack ‘how to do it.‘ I lack a sense of urgency.  

I’m a big lollygagger — who farts around and wastes productivity time pursuing peace, love and joy. I’ve mastered afternoon naps and edging myself while everyone else’s at work on the hampster wheel.

There, I finally said it publicly. Whew, it feels good to get it off my chest. Hi, my name is Daniel, and I’m a lollygagger—-—haha.

See Lesson on Substack