"الشخص المبدع يجب أن يبدع. لا يهم حقًا ما الذي تبدعه"

Being creative is like having an itch that you just have to scratch. Think about it. If you’ve got that urge, you know the one I’m talking about—where your fingers tingle to sketch, or you find yourself scribbling new ideas in the margins of your notebook during a boring meeting—then you get it. You have to create, no matter what form it takes.

This idea isn’t new. Throughout history, many artists, writers, and thinkers have felt this relentless drive. For example, look at Vincent van Gogh. He painted over 2,100 artworks in just over a decade. It wasn’t about fame—he barely sold paintings in his lifetime. Painting was his way to process his thoughts and emotions. It was how he made sense of the world.

Take a modern-day example. Imagine a graphic designer who's spent their entire week creating sleek, professional layouts for corporate clients. The work pays the bills, sure, but it doesn't quite satisfy that deeper need. So, on the weekends, they retreat into their little home studio. Here, they let loose, creating wild, abstract paintings with vibrant splashes of color. It’s not for a client. It’s not even meant to be seen by anyone else. But it's essential—it’s their way of staying sane and feeling alive.

So what can we learn from this? Simple: If you feel that spark, you owe it to yourself to fan the flames. Don’t worry about whether what you’re creating is good or bad, useful or pointless, understood or misunderstood. The act of creating is what matters.

Here’s a bit of advice. Set aside time each week to indulge in your creative impulse. Maybe it’s an hour on Sunday mornings or a few minutes before bed. Protect that time fiercely. Don’t let mundane tasks or other people's demands encroach on it. Use this time to do whatever stokes your creative fire. Write poetry, cook an elaborate meal, doodle in a sketchbook—anything.

Picture this: You’re at a coffee shop, chatting with a friend. They’re talking about how they’ve always wanted to learn guitar but just never find the time. You remind them of that guitar collecting dust in their closet. They laugh it off, saying they’d probably be terrible. But you insist it’s not about being good; it’s about the joy of doing it. Imagine their face lighting up, just a little, at the thought of strumming those strings.

This concept is liberating. It takes the pressure off. You don’t have to be the next Picasso or J.K. Rowling. You don’t even have to show your work to anyone. Just let yourself create. It’s about the process, the journey, and how it makes you feel alive, grounded, and more like yourself.

So, go ahead. Grab that pen, that paintbrush, that guitar. Dive into that new project you’ve been dreaming about. Remember, the world doesn’t need another masterpiece. It needs more people who are simply creating because they can’t imagine doing anything else.