Illusions are not the opposite of reality. They are part of it. They are a phenomenon that lives in our expectations, in our judgments, in the way we interpret the world. We act according to them, and so they shape our actions. There is one illusion in particular that affects anyone who trying to create something new. I call it the creative lie.
The creative lie tells us we must be fully prepared before we begin. We must wait for the perfect moment, the perfect tools, the perfect knowledge and once ready, that the masterpiece will come forth from inside us like tooth paste oozing effortlessly out of its soft plastic shell. It tells us the first attempt must dazzle, or else we are not good enough, but this is a trick of the mind. One does not achieve perfection on the first try. We know this but then we still always fall prey to the “creative lie”. The lie feeds on our fear of failure, our fear of being judged, our fear that we are not as brilliant as others. And so we hesitate, we stall, we research, we plan — but the canvas stays blank, the page stays empty.
Have you played football? Well, anyways anyone who has played any sport knows this feeling from another angle. In football, there are moments when everything slows down, when decisions happen almost instantly and effortlessly. This is the state of flow, or what Taoist philosophy calls wu-wei. Yet no player simply steps onto the field and enters that state. First comes the warm-up exercises, the drills, the mistakes. The body must loosen, the mind must settle, and only then does flow arrive. That is the truth of creativity. You don’t think your way into flow; you move your way into it.
The parable of the prodigal son tells this story too. Growth requires leaving the safe place, wandering, stumbling, realizing you have taken the wrong path. Only then can you return with new eyes and a clearer heart —One that is not stuck in , “what if ?!” limbo village. We should not be afraid of mistakes for they are a path to be walked. Even the Mona Lisa, the most famous painting in the world, carries hidden versions beneath the final layer. Perfection was not born in a single stroke — it was built over time, shaped by trial and error.
The truth is simple but hard to accept: to create, you must begin before you feel ready. The first drawing will be clumsy, the first sentences awkward. You will feel terrible but each attempt clears away resistance and brings you closer to the rhythm of flow. Once there, you must guard it carefully, for distraction can break it, and it takes twice the effort to return.
The creative lie will always whisper to us. Now that you know what it is, smile, set it aside, and step into the work that awaits you. Trust me — you already know enough to begin. So do it. Move forward. That masterpiece you long for, that state of flow you crave, will not appear before the work; it will grow through the work itself. The creative truth shouts in return: “Your only task is to start today — imperfectly.