Photosynthesis might be the closest thing to alchemy that exists.
I mean, when you really stop to think about it, the fact that trees can turn sunlight into wood with the help of carbon dioxide is nothing short of utterly alien and wildly fantastic.
But perhaps even more confounding is that this alchemy is far from rare.
More than 82% of the world’s biomass is made up of plants, each photosynthesizing in one way or another.
Beyond plants, fungi, bacteria, viruses, and every variety of animal species each use their own form of synthesis to grow and propagate.
Including us.
Our bodies reliably turn everything from leafy greens and root vegetables, to hamburgers, Pringles, and Twinkies into the blood, flesh, bone, and brain that enable us to live the vast variety of lives we lead.
Utterly magical.
And entirely ubiquitous.
Synthesis, it seems, is the default operating system for life.
It should come as no surprise then, that it’s the same process that governs the idea generation which powers our creative work, turning the raw material we consume into something unrecognizable.
And yet, most of us seem to have a better understanding of the photosynthesis performed by trees than the synthesis we rely on for our work.
While we might have some idea of our desired outputs, we rarely have a clear sense of what the inputs are.
The reasons, I think, are twofold.
- Similar to trees requiring carbon dioxide and sunlight to make wood, the inputs we require to create our desired outputs are rarely obvious or directly related.
- Even to produce similar outputs, each of us requires our own set of unique inputs.
To unlock our personal creative potential, then, one of the primary cruxes we need to solve is identifying the raw materials that we can most efficiently synthesize into our creative outputs.
Then, we need to trust that those (often obscure) inputs will lead to our desired results.
Personally, the raw materials I synthesize most efficiently into my writing and creative work are things like walking, views of the horizon, vistas, and trees, new places, and practicing different methods of transportation and navigation.
They also include consuming content on the natural world, adventures, storytelling, and fiction.
Despite knowing that these are the raw materials that power my creative synthesis, I’m not immune from the pull of more conventional content.
I constantly feel like I should be reading more business books, listening to more marketing podcasts, studying the same creators, and following the same guides everyone else seems to be obsessing over.
I regularly give in to this temptation.
But when I observe my most creative periods and the things I was doing that led to them, it’s clear that my best, most inspired, original work comes when I disconnect from those more obvious inputs.
To be fair, I’ve already consumed thousands of hours of that content, and at this point, the improvements of consuming more of it are likely to be incremental at best.
There’s certainly something to be learned from studying the mechanics, frameworks, and strategies.
But those aren’t the things that give your work heart or resonance or connection with others.
They’re merely the vehicles of delivery.
And if you’ve got nothing to deliver, the vehicle isn’t much use.
If you want to create work that moves people, and moves the needle for your business, start with identifying the raw materials that synthesize into your best, most resonant, most original work.
Surround yourself with them.
Then, let the alchemy begin.
Explore how to navigate a creative life that matters
This article originally appeared in my weekly Creative Wayfinding Newsletter. Each issue is the product of a week of work, and contains something not available for sale.
A fresh perspective, a shot of encouragement when you need it most, and maybe even some genuine wisdom from time to time.
Each week, we explore a different facet of the question “How do we navigate the wilds of creating work that matters?”
It’s something I’m proud to create and I’d be honoured to share it with you.
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