Creativity Without Competition

By Matthew Wilson

I used to measure my progress as a musician in ways

that weren't particularly kind to me. I'd hear a

well-produced song or watch someone move easily

through a collaboration and wonder why those things

seemed so much harder for me.

I had a picture of the musician I ought to become:

technically proficient, productive, able to remember what

I'd learned and pick up where I'd left off. Nobody handed

me that standard. I made it for myself, and I kept coming

up short.

Living with schizoaffective disorder has complicated that

picture. Memory, processing, and energy aren't always

dependable for me. I can learn something in a music

program and still need my notes the next time I open it.

When I compared that experience with someone else's

fluency, I usually ended up frustrated.

For a while I thought the answer was to work harder or

find a better routine. Sometimes a new approach helped,

but comparison followed me into whatever I tried next. I

could finish a piece of music and immediately think about

what it lacked.

Things began to shift as I spent more time making

spoken-word music. I liked the space in it, the textures,

and the chance to develop an idea without forcing it into

a conventional song. I could spend an afternoon working

on a few lines or one sound and still feel that I'd made

something worth keeping.

I notice a similar thing at Songwriting Monthly. People

arrive with different abilities, schedules, and ambitions.

Some post frequently; others share a song now and then.

What stays with me isn't who has the most elaborate

production. It's often a line of writing or a small choice in

a song that I wouldn't have thought to make myself.

I don't think competition is wrong. Some musicians enjoy

it, and it can push them to improve. It just hasn't been a

helpful way for me to approach my own work. I want to

keep learning, but I don't want every session at the

computer to become a test of whether I'm keeping up.

I still compare myself with other musicians sometimes. I

still wish I could remember more and work faster. On

those days, I try to return to the piece in front of me and

decide what it needs. That gives me something I can

actually do, instead of another standard I can't quite

reach.

Creativity, Identity & Belonging

This essay is part of a collection exploring creativity, identity, mental health, uncertainty, music, and community.