ongoing explorations on artist business ethos

I’ve been reflecting on how to make the practice of growing a creative business feel safe, cozy, and cocooning — even when throwing yourself into the wild world of self-employment feels like an act of deep risk and uncertainty — that is, it is lonely work.

I have an intuition about the idea of safety — which is, that I believe safety is ultimately not dependent on meeting external conditions, checking off boxes, or accumulating a stash of money, but instead, safety is a felt sense that you can deliberately prioritize, cultivate, and practice.

I’ll examine how the feeling of safety, ultimately, lives within a web of relationships of having a business — and how important it is to navigate that web with attentiveness, values-centered discernment, and care.

but first, I’ll unpack the idea of safety.

where does safety/security come from?

when you work a 9-5 job, your sense of security is derived from your job, or your employer; or, your capacity to get another job. that is: your resume. your network. your credentials.

but when you work for yourself, where do you source that feeling of security from? is it… a certain amount of cash reserves in the bank? the promise of future work and income streams? some kinds of insurance? professional relationships for getting referrals? good metrics? a large audience base, and the possibility of being able to sell something to them — and support your life in doing so?

all of these external things definitely make a difference. from my own experience, I know that there IS a huge difference between the feeling of having a financial cushion — and not. numbers make us feel things. numbers allow the body and nervous system — to exhale.

but, at the end of it, safety is still just a feeling. a felt sense. an internal state. it is your nervous system feeling regulated enough to stop running, and maybe, take a nap. or a whole day off. it is your body telling your mind: you can relax, and you won’t die. or: you can share this thing you wrote, and no one will hate you for it.

but, before we go further, I first want to distinguish between safety and security. they are not the same thing.

security is a story

security is a sense of guarantee. a promise. my mother — like most chinese mothers — is obsessed with security. an employment contract, a distinguished resume, health insurance — these are forms of security — there to catch you, if you trip. a corporate ladder is security. if you climb this, you will be safe.

for me, there is a sense of security in knowing that if I were incapable of making money in my business, I could always go out and get a job. this is 100% a belief, not a fact. my cash reserves in the bank are also a form of security. it’s a narrative I tell myself: that if all else fails and I’m unable to work, I still have the resources to take care of myself.

but these are both stories I tell myself — in order to feel safe. in truth, security is never 100% guaranteed. something terrible could happen and our lives could crumble, dissipate, and disappear at any moment. what once gave us security — a marriage, a job title, stock and bonds — could stop feeling safe.

security can evaporate the moment we stop believing in it.

safety is a felt sense

safety is something different. safety is a state of being; a moment to moment experience of feeling safe. it is an embodied knowing. if you feel safe when you think about your work and the people you work with, and by that, I mean in a deep, embodied way — then chances are, you are safe. the whole purpose of security — with its stories, promises, and guarantees — is to concoct this feeling of safety.

theoretically, you could lose all forms of security — your job, all your money in the bank — and still maintain (albeit with challenges) the feeling of safety. you might have a support network, or personal conviction, or invincible faith that somehow, life will open a way for you.

safety is a feeling that you inhabit and live in. safety always exists in the moment, and the string of moments across days, weeks, and months — that lead you to say: yes, I’m in a good place.

my personal scale of feeling safe to unsafe

why does work sometimes feel unsafe?

recently, I’ve been writing about business as the exchange of energy between you and the world. when you see it that way — as a relationship of reciprocal giving and receiving — not unlike a friendship or romantic relationship — then it makes sense why this relationship could trigger a lot of feelings of un-safety.

in between you and “the other” — is the thing you create: your work.

work as childhood conditioned self-worth

I’ve observed a lot of work trauma as rooted in relationships to our efforts in childhood. our relationship to work is tied to ways in which we felt safe and able to express our creativity, or not.

from a young age, we’re conditioned to equate our work to self-worth — trying hard enough and doing enough became inextricably tangled with the notion of being enough.

we observed which things we received validation, recognition, and approval for — and which things were discouraged, chastised, or ignored. if our expressions of creativity triggered our parents’ anxiety and insecurity (of the possibility of us becoming starving artists), then we received a message that it was unsafe to be creative.

as children, whatever conditioned responses of fear we experienced are all based on the rubric of the adults that surrounded us. and no matter how far we’ve gone now, to some extent, they’re still playing in the backrooms of our psyches.

dysfunctional relationship dynamics & not knowing what safe fels like

the other way that work can feel triggering and unsafe is if you’ve experienced dysfunctional relationship dynamics in your life — non-reciprocal relationships, where you didn’t feel acknowledged, seen, or heard; where you fell into patterns of prioritizing the needs of another while overriding your own. these responses inevitably cross over to your professional life.

I’ll tell you my own personal experience. I used to think that I had an usually high risk tolerance, combined with a good measure of obstinate self-conviction — thus, I was able to take big leaps without feeling paralyzed by fear.

this is true. but looking back, I also realized one crucial thing. for many years, I didn’t value safety — in my personal or professional life — because I actually didn’t know what “being safe” felt like. safety was a foreign feeling. in those years, I had a very hard time distinguishing between what’s safe vs. unsafe.

real safety felt unsafe — like a trap, because I wasn’t used to it. what was unsafe felt like a sticky, irresistable flower — in that it made me feel alive. this is how I got myself into a series of romantic relationships where I felt unseen and diminished, while constantly trying to prove my self-worth. it took me a long time to even clock that I didn’t feel safe — otherwise, I would’ve done something about it earlier.

I’m in a different place in my life now — and in a partnership where I feel a deeply embodied sense of safety. a safety without words. it’s taught me to recognize safety when I see it — and to cherish it.

safety in the container of relationship

so, safety is a feeling — a felt sense.

and: safety is experienced (or not) within the container of relationships — not just with a person, but in a situation, a place, or environment — physical or psychological.

when you have your own business, you’re navigating a more complex web of relationships than just with your boss, co-workers, and the work itself.

of course, first and foremost, you’re dealing with yourself: your creativity, your energy, your time, your sense of self-worth.

then, you’re also dancing with the abstracted “other” — that is, the “public” / internet strangers / acquaintances / your “audience,” as well as with clients, customers, and the people in your community.

and then, you have your relationship to the work itself: your offerings and ecosystems, your business systems and containers, and — your relationship with money.

work is about exchanging resources.

and money is just another resource on this list.

feeling safe is therefore about cultivating safety in relationship to your resources — and the people with whom you exchange them.

what makes you feel safe?

for me, safety is tied to a sense of expansive freedom — at the same time as feeling consistent cared for, and listened to. I actually didn’t feel safe at my 9-5 job — because it triggered the sensation of imprisonment; of slowly wasting away, my gifts unrecognized and unseen. I felt unsafe on social media — because it made me lose a sense of my own voice. I felt like I was in a space designed to trigger feelings of not-enoughness.

I’m distilling down my sense of safety into a few key feelings:

feeling enough, feeling worthy
feeling recognized, acknowledged, seen, and heard
feeling freedom to expand and explore
feeling nourished — cared for, supported, reciprocated
feeling able to rest, and surrender
feeling able to experiment and play

your hierarchy of safety might be different. I invite you to discover what yours looks like. the practice, next, is to explore how to cultivate those feelings — and to fine tune your felt being to your shifting needs.

how can the way you work — and your business systems — be designed to prioritize these feelings? how does this reframe where and how you decide to show up online? how does it guide you to reshape your relationship with time, and creative energy?

if you felt 100% safe in your business, what would you do differently?

safety is sacred and personal

the feeling of safety and security belongs to the root chakra — that of having a sense of worthiness; a right to exist and to take up space in the world.

feeling safe starts with knowing that you deserve to feel safe. it’s valuing your own safety as sacred — and committing to discerning the difference between feeling safe vs. feeling unsafe. that’s when, slowly, you can begin to feel safe with yourself — to trust that YOU will never abandon yourself, no matter what external circumstances entail.

part of the ongoing work is to be attentive when we feel a conditioned response of not-safe — and to be tender with that part of us that hurts. sometimes, the work required of us is to leave — and never look back. and, other times, the work is to stay. only you will know what’s right for you.

see more:
honoring your creative energy in business
the feeling of being safe (a visual mood diary)
7 processes for energetically aligned business flow

💌 I write a weekly newsletter on creative alchemy called guide.notes. Find me also on my podcast: botanical studies of internet magic.

feeling safe in creative work & business