Keep Calm and Carry On
When I look back at the things I’ve done in my life that really mattered to me the common thread isn’t brilliance.
It isn’t luck. It isn’t even inspiration.
It’s stubbornness.
The ability to keep going when it gets boring, messy, or thankless is, I think, the unglamorous but essential ingredient in success. And maybe, even, in life itself.
And the older I get, the more I realise that perseverance isn’t about dramatic moments of heroism.
It’s about daily choices.
The choice to sit down and write when you’d rather scroll. The choice to test the idea you sketched yesterday even though it sounds crap today. The choice to stick to your task even when nobody else seems to care.
Why Creativity Matters
Problem solving takes creativity. Strategic thinking takes creativity. Making a team become more than the sum of its parts takes creativity.
But most people think creativity belongs to someone else. They imagine the zany artist, the mad inventor, the musical prodigy. Creativity gets filed under “special talent”. It's something rare, something exotic, something "I" don’t have.
I think that’s completely wrong.
Creativity isn’t confined to paintbrushes or symphonies. It’s the way we navigate challenges, the way we connect ideas, the way we see possibilities where others see dead ends. It’s not just about producing art, it’s about producing better outcomes.
If you’re leading a team, you need creativity to spot opportunities others miss. You need it to shape strategy when the path isn’t obvious. You need it to listen to clashing perspectives and piece them together into something coherent. That’s not “artsy.” That’s leadership.
The reality is that successful people practice creativity every day, whether they call it that or not. The ones who thrive long term are those who embrace it, not as a quirky extra, but as a core skill.
Creativity Takes Stamina
We love the myth of sudden genius. The lightning-bolt idea. The sleepless night that leads to the breakthrough. And yes, those flashes do happen sometimes. But they’re rare. And they’re only ever the beginning.
The real work is staying long enough with an idea to make it real.
That takes stamina. Nobody applauds you for showing up to the blank page again. But you need the kind of stamina that looks like patience. Repetition. Returning, day after day, even when you’re unsure.
We think creativity is about freedom. But actually, the best creative work often emerges from limits. From showing up even when the muse is silent. From pressing forward even when yesterday’s “great idea” now looks ordinary.
If you want to make something that lasts, you need endurance as much as imagination.
The Problem with Endless Feedback
Here’s where we get in trouble: the modern world has taught us that everything needs to be shared.
You finish a draft? Share it.
You sketch something? Post it.
You record a demo? Upload it.
And then wait. For the hearts. For the comments. For the tiny hits of dopamine that tell us: “yes, this is worth doing.”
But here’s the truth I’ve had to learn (the hard way): external validation is addictive.
And unreliable.
The endless stream of feedback often pulls us away from the work itself. We become so hungry for a reaction that we start optimising for approval instead of pursuing the idea. We adjust too soon, or worse, we abandon the idea entirely.
And what’s really dangerous is that the feedback loop rarely matches reality. Silence doesn’t mean your idea is bad. Praise doesn’t mean it’s good. Most of the time, it just means people are distracted...or polite.
At its worst, constant affirmation can become a substitute for real progress. It feels like you’re moving forward when you’re actually just circling.
Learning to Work Without Applause
So what’s the alternative?
It’s simple, but not easy: learn to keep going without applause.
Writing this newsletter is an excellent example. I know that a lot of you read these weekly notes. But very few of you ever leave a comment or give me any feedback. That's fine, by the way.
In fact, my writing has become better because of it. And I've realised that I'm doing this because I enjoy it, not because I get a few slaps on the back and a couple of "well done" messages.
(Note: if you are enjoying this, however, it wouldn't hurt you to share it with some of your friends and get them to sign up too! Thanks in advance. Now back to it...)
Perseverance really matters.
Perseverance is not just the ability to withstand difficulty. It’s the ability to keep moving without immediate reward. To sit with discomfort. To believe in your work enough to carry it with you quietly until it’s ready.
It means writing drafts nobody reads. Recording songs nobody hears. Sketching designs that never get posted.
You're not hiding your work, but giving it the space to breathe before it faces the world.
Creativity Is a Long Game
One of my favourite reminders is that almost everything worthwhile takes longer than you think.
We underestimate how much time and effort real creative breakthroughs demand. We want them fast. We want them neat. We want them in the form of a viral post or a bestseller.
But reality? Most things unfold slowly. Ideas take years to mature. Skills take decades to refine. Audiences grow gradually, not overnight.
The danger is that we quit too soon. We measure our progress against unrealistic timelines and decide we’re failing. We give up when, really, we were just getting started.
The long game of creativity demands faith in the process, not outcomes. It asks us to keep sowing seeds we won’t see sprout for a long time.
And the only way to discover what lasts, is to stay in the game long enough.
What Keeps Me Going
If applause isn’t enough, what keeps me going?
It comes down to a handful of things:
- Curiosity – The joy of chasing a question, of exploring what happens if I push an idea one step further.
- Discipline – The rhythm of showing up whether or not I feel inspired.
- Meaning – The sense that the work matters, even if nobody else knows it yet.
- Small wins – Not likes or shares, but the quiet satisfaction of finishing a draft, solving a problem, or noticing improvement.
These are the anchors that outlast temporary validation. They create a sturdier foundation than the shaky scaffolding of endless feedback.
The Freedom of Needing Less
When you stop chasing constant affirmation, you free yourself.
You’re no longer at the mercy of how many people click like today. You’re no longer derailed by silence or distracted by noise. You’re no longer dependent on someone else’s reaction to determine your direction.
Instead, you can give your best energy to the work itself. You can follow your instincts more boldly. You can take risks that don’t make sense yet.
That’s where real creativity lives. In the freedom to try, fail, repeat, and persist without looking over your shoulder.
A Small Challenge for You
Let me leave you with this.
Think of one creative project you’ve been working on—or maybe one you’ve abandoned. Something you dropped because nobody seemed to notice, or because you weren’t sure it mattered.
Pick it up again.
This time, don’t share it right away. Don’t ask for feedback yet. Don’t look for likes.
Just sit with it. Give it another hour, another week, another draft. Work on it for its own sake.
And see what happens when you build not on applause, but on perseverance.
Because so much of everything, really, is keeping going.
Until next time,
Jon "playing to an empty stadium" Kaye
Choosing to live without chasing
P.S.
The radio show I mentioned? It started as a random discussion 12 months ago (when I was bored, lol). Sometimes the best ideas sound completely crazy at first.

Original newsletter disclosures
DISCLAIMERS & DISCLOSURES This content is for education and entertainment purposes only. Jon does not provide tax or investment advice. The information is being presented without consideration of the investment objectives, risk tolerance, or financial circumstances of any specific investor and might not be suitable for all investors. Past performance is not indicative of future results. All investing involves risk, including the possible loss of principal.