Rich people are ___. Poor people are___. You fill in the blanks.

I often start my classes with creatives by having them fill in the blanks for these trick questions. Try answering them for yourself:

1. Rich people are _.
2. Poor people are_.
3. If I make a lot of money with my art then my creativity will _.
4. 4. If I make a lot of money with my art, that means _.

Since I already told you these were trick questions, you’d be right to be suspicious. But they do get to the heart of creatives' money mindsets.

Here’s why.

Your answers aren’t right or wrong. They simply point to your beliefs.

Maybe you said rich people are “scum, leeches, greedy, tasteless and dishonest.” Poor people are “righteous, exploited, discriminated against, helpless and spiritual.”

Or you think rich people are “smart, savvy and free,” while poor people are “lazy, uneducated, apathetic and dumb.”

Whatever you said, the “right” answer is that rich and poor people are people. Sure there are some rich people who are greedy leeches and poor people who are helpless and apathetic, but the opposite is also true, along with a huge range of other characteristics that apply to all people regardless of their money status.

There isn’t a direct relationship between money and creativity unless you make one yourself.

The only thing truly interesting about these questions is what your answers tell you about you.

If you truly think art/design/other creative output is a luxury and only rich people will buy it, but you think rich people are leeches on the jugular vein of society, then you’re going to have trouble selling your art.

If you think money will corrupt your creative muse, then you’ll also have difficulty selling your work.

If you think selling a lot of your work will make you a better person (the way I’m pretty sure writing a bestselling book would make me one), then you might be blocking your creativity just by the amount of pressure you’re applying to yourself.

If you think selling a lot of work will turn you into a sell-out, then selling work will be worse than tricky. It could actually impair your creativity. Who would ever take that risk?

I answered these questions for myself

Here are my answers, which have created their own problems for me.

1. Rich people are smart.
2. Poor people are dumb. (So in the times in my life I’ve struggled with money, not only am I struggling but I’m also stupid. Not so helpful believing that).
3. If I make a lot of money with my art then my creativity will go underground. There won’t be any time for it. So success would take away my time to write. Doesn’t make sense to risk it.
4. If I make a lot of money with my art, that means I’m worthy. This one’s my least favorite (plus it contradicts #3 above). Believing this makes me pressure myself when I write, to the point that it’s not fun. The stakes are too high.

I have limiting, contradictory and downright false beliefs all over the place.

You can imagine what these beliefs, and your beliefs, are doing to your ability to sell your art, whatever it is.

What’s the solution????

Working with the parts of yourself that feel this way and seeing what they’re trying to protect you from.

My Active Imagination with the part of me that thinks money means something about my worth as a human being:

Christy: Hi. May I speak with the part of me that thinks money means something about my worth as a human being?

Part: Yes.

C: Could you tell me about yourself?

P: Sure.
I’m the part that makes sure there’s always someone around to love you, even if you’re selfish and awful and unreasonable. I make it so there’s always SOMEONE willing to hang out with you no matter how you behave.

C: Wow. I didn’t realize I was selfish and awful and unreasonable. When was I like that?

P: In the 80’s. Into the early 90’s.

C: Ick. I’m sorry to hear that.

P: Well. You were doing the best you could. But you were pretty selfish. And you need love. So I just made sure you had money so at least some people would hang around.

C: Is this still your job?

P: Well, you don’t seem to need it as much now. You’re a lot nicer.

C: Thank goodness. Thanks for saying that. I still feel that thing that more money makes me more worthy and lovable.

P: Not to the people you want to love you. People like that aren’t your type anymore.

C: That’s good to hear. What’s your job now?

P: I’m still doing the same thing, but it’s no longer necessary. It’s boring, too.

C: What would you rather do?

P: Well, since my job was always to make you lovable no matter what, I think I’d like to maybe change to start showing you how lovable you are.

C: How would you do that?

P: Well-get you to make that list your friend told you to make about the good things about you. Carry it in your pocket or your purse and look at it.

Another way would be for you and I to just sit quietly with one another.

My ultimate job is bringing love. I’d like to sit with you and help you see how you can love more deeply rather than fussing with other people.

C: How would you do that?

P: Helping you figure out who we want to love more deeply, then be more truthful with them. Love comes when you’re vulnerable. When you tell the truth.

C: Okay. What would you like me to do?

P: Call on me when you are writing in the morning and we can work on it together. I can tell you who to focus on, and what to say to them.

C: Okay. Anything else?

P: Do you see how important this is? How important love is? That’s what I want you to know.

C: I do. Or at least I’m starting to. I appreciate your help with this.

P: You’re welcome.

I am starting a 10-week class for creative people starting on July 9th. Click here to see if it would fit your need for Peace with Money.