The Chaos You’ve Created
The Self-Made Trap That’s Keeping You Stuck
Chaos feels productive, doesn’t it? The racing mind, the endless to-do lists, the feeling that if you stop—even for a second—everything will fall apart. It’s a familiar state for creatives, and we often wear it like a badge of honor. After all, chaos means we’re working, right? Striving? Pushing toward something great?
But here’s the hardest truth to face: the chaos in your life isn’t real. You built it. Layer by layer, thought by thought, moment by moment, you’ve constructed it to feel busy, important, and in control. But it’s doing the exact opposite.
Chaos is comfortable because it gives you something to solve—a never-ending puzzle that keeps you spinning your wheels without moving forward. It’s the perfect distraction. The bulletproof excuse that stops you from creating the thing you were meant to create.
But what if you could dismantle it? What if the peace, clarity, and freedom you’ve been searching for are already within your reach—buried under the noise you’ve created?
As creatives, we’re natural-born storytellers, but the stories we tell ourselves are often the foundation of the chaos we create. These narratives sound so convincing, so logical, that we don’t even think to question them. They whisper: “If you don’t hustle every second, you’ll fall behind.” Or “If it’s not perfect, it’s not worth doing.” Over time, these thoughts solidify into beliefs, and those beliefs dictate our actions—or paralyze us into inaction.
These narratives are often lies. They thrive on fear, keeping us in a state of perpetual motion without moving toward anything meaningful. They trick us into thinking the chaos is external when, in reality, it’s entirely self-made.
Think about it: How often do you attach urgency to something that doesn’t actually need it? How often do you inflate the stakes, convincing yourself that this one project, one idea, or one decision will define your entire career?
There’s a common phrase for writers: writing is rewriting.
The same applies to your internal belief. Rewrite your story.
Stop framing your work as a constant battle against time or perfection. Instead, tell yourself: “This doesn’t have to be perfect; it just has to exist.”
The first step to dismantling chaos is recognizing that the narrative fueling it isn’t real. And once you change the story, the pressure starts to dissolve.
If chaos is the story you’ve built, then letting go is the M. Night Shyamalan plot twist you need.
Chaos doesn’t have to be fought or defeated—it’s not a monster standing in your way. It’s a weight you’re carrying, one you can choose to set down. But we often cling to it because chaos feels productive. It feels important. It feels like proof that we’re doing something, even when we’re not moving forward.
The truth is, much of the chaos we hold onto is rooted in overcomplication. We pile on layers of complexity—turning a simple idea into a sprawling system or a project into an unmanageable beast. Complexity gives us an excuse to stay busy while avoiding the clarity that scares us.
Clarity isn’t terrifying—it’s freeing.
Letting go of chaos means simplifying. It means cutting through the noise to focus on what truly matters. Ask yourself:
• What can I strip away?
• What am I overthinking?
• What would this look like if it were easy?
Releasing chaos doesn’t mean giving up; it means giving yourself permission to create without the self-imposed pressure. It’s trading the illusion of control for actual progress.
Set down the chaos. Focus on the clarity waiting underneath. That’s where your best work begins.
Now you own it.
Chaos might feel like it happens to you, but the truth is, you created it. And if you created it, you can control it. Owning your role in the chaos is the key to reclaiming your creative freedom.
Ownership isn’t always comfortable. It forces you to admit when fear, excuses, or distractions have kept you from doing the work. It asks you to look at the systems you’ve built and ask, “Are these helping me, or are they holding me back?”
Consider this:
• When you blame the market, algorithms, or lack of time, you give away your power.
• When you overthink, tweak endlessly, or wait for inspiration, you’re protecting yourself from risk—but also from growth.
• When you tell yourself stories about why you can’t, you’re the only thing standing in your way.
Ownership means calling out the excuses, stripping away the noise, and taking responsibility for your output. It’s deciding that no matter the distractions, no matter the fear, you’ll show up and do the work.
The beauty of ownership is that it shifts your focus from what you can’t control to what you can. That mindset shift alone is enough to transform your creative process.
Because once you own the chaos, you can stop feeding it. And when you stop feeding it, you can finally move forward.
The chaos you’ve built doesn’t define you—it’s a habit, not a permanent state. The stories, the weight, the excuses—they’ve served their purpose. But now, it’s time to let them go.
Clarity is where your best ideas live, unburdened by fear or overcomplication. It’s where you rediscover why you started and remember that your worth isn’t tied to productivity or perfection.
Ask yourself: What’s one small piece of chaos I can let go of today? Start there. Begin rewriting your story.
Keep creating and repeating,
- Zack
PODCAST UPDATE
We’re nearing the end of the first season of The Create.Repeat Podcast, with just two episodes left! The last two episodes will resume next week.
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who’s listened, watched, left a kind comment, or rated the show. Your support means the world, and it’s felt deeply by all of us.
If you haven’t checked out The Create.Repeat Podcast yet, you can listen wherever you get your podcasts or watch it on YouTube: youtube.com/@Create.Repeat.
Here’s the very first episode where we introduced ourselves to you for the first time—check it out, and don’t forget to subscribe! 😊
Links keeping us creative:
🛜 Making space for a handmade web: An article on the art and joy of the little handmade corners of the internet.
📚 I need a book cover: Need a book cover? Explore this site for inspiration—and even connect with the designers themselves.
‼️ Attention is an Art Form: An essay exploring how attention, in a world of noise, is an art form to be cultivated.
👨💻 Apple Computer: A PDF of Apple’s early brand guidelines, showcasing the foundation of its iconic visual identity.
This week, we’re spotlighting Grief and Hope, an incredible group of volunteers—artists, gallery employees, and cultural workers—dedicated to supporting the creative community impacted by the recent Los Angeles fires. Their efforts are making a real difference for those in need.
To support this cause, we’re selling Los Angeles Creatives hats, with 100% of the proceeds going directly to Grief and Hope.
BUY HERE
Prefer to donate directly? You can contribute to their GoFundMe here
Every bit helps. Let’s come together for the LA creative community. ❤️
Create.Repeat is a community for creatives.
The Create.Repeat Substack is a project designed to be a weekly diary on creativity. Sharing inspiration for artists to keep creating and repeating.
Written and curated by Zack Evans & James Warren Taylor
Each week we will be sharing recent thoughts on creativity, some links helping us stay creative, and a talent show featuring an artist from the community. Thank you for engaging with us.
History repeats. Create the future.
This! 👏 You know the saying: life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.
Needed this. It’s something I’ve unconsciously been doing