Creativity Hacks for Empaths and INFJs
We put so much pressure on our creativity to perform. To earn. To prove.
But the deepest, most meaningful art doesn’t come from obligation—it comes from aliveness.
In a world obsessed with monetization and metrics, this is your reminder:
You don’t have to get paid to start.
You just have to start.
Make the Work You Want to Be Paid For
Most creatives begin on spec.
A landscape photographer doesn’t wait to be hired—they go out, shoot what stirs them, and build a portfolio that speaks for itself.
The same is true for you.
Create what you want to get paid for.
Make what lights you up before it’s profitable. Let your work become the evidence of your calling.
You don’t need permission. You need practice.
And the practice is the proof.
Boredom Is Not the Enemy—It’s the Portal
The boredom paradox says this:
Our most captivating ideas often come after long stretches of stillness, emptiness, or disinterest.
Because boredom forces us out of fight-or-flight. It opens the door to wandering thought, subconscious creativity, and unexpected insights.
So let yourself be bored.
Let yourself slow down.
Let yourself not know.
There’s richness in that gap.
Shiny Object Syndrome is Data
Skipping from project to project is often seen as flaky, inconsistent, or chaotic. But for many creatives—especially INFJs—it’s an essential form of research.
You can’t map terrain you haven’t explored.
And sometimes the only way to know if you want to make something… is to try making it.
Let it be exploratory.
You’re collecting data.
You’re reading the energy of each idea.
And when one sticks? You’ll know.
Don’t Push Through Creative Blocks—Redirect the Flow
When you're stuck, you don’t have to force it.
You can simply move to something else. Another project. Another outlet. Another part of your spirit asking to be expressed.
Creativity is a feminine force—it spirals, not marches.
It reveals itself in curves, not deadlines.
So follow the curve.
Don’t demand a straight line.
Use Less Time, Not More Pressure
Here’s the truth no one tells you:
You don’t need 8 hours a day to make something great.
In fact, you’ll often get diminishing returns.
The first 30–60 minutes of focused effort often yields the highest quality. After that, your energy starts to dip.
So take the pressure off.
Try a Pomodoro timer—25 minutes of presence is enough.
Quality rises when you stop squeezing so hard.
Separate Input and Output
You can’t inhale and exhale at the same time.
Creative input (reading, learning, researching) and creative output (writing, painting, building) use different parts of your brain—and your energy.
Trying to do both simultaneously creates tension.
So choose:
Are you in gathering mode or expression mode right now?
Honor the one you're in. Don’t collapse them together.
Make It Exist First. Make It Good Later.
Don’t let your fear of being seen silence your process.
If you're worried what others will think, you're not ready to share it yet.
And that’s okay.
Make the thing first.
Make it for you.
Then decide if anyone else ever gets to see it.
Post-Completion Blues Are Real
Sometimes, when we finally finish something, we don’t feel excited—we feel empty.
That’s not failure. That’s postpartum.
You’ve nurtured something into form. You’ve walked with it, carried it, bonded with it.
And now it doesn’t need you anymore.
Grieve it. Rest.
Let the space be quiet for a while.
The next idea will come.
It always does.
Document the Process
Not everything has to be a finished product.
Sometimes capturing the middle—the messy drafts, the behind-the-scenes, the breakthroughs—is more grounding than showcasing the polished result.
It reminds you that you are moving.
Even when it feels slow.
AI Can’t Replace Soul
There’s a lot of fear right now around AI and automation. But here’s what I know:
AI can create—but it cannot speak from the soul.
It cannot touch the places inside a person that only lived experience can reach.
Let it assist with what drains you.
Let it carry the weight that doesn’t matter.
But never let it replace what comes from your bones.
Your real work?
The sacred work?
That still needs your human hands.
Your Homework: Savor
Ask yourself:
If this life is just one lifetime of many… why did your soul choose this one?
What small joys, what creative aliveness, what sensory pleasure did it want to feel again?
Then go find more of that.
You’re here for it.
