Reflections on Rock Bottom
Twelve years ago, I found myself crossing the quaint footbridge behind our picturesque cottage in Wales. I climbed a nearby hill, ensuring that I was far enough away from my family, sat down, and let the tears flow. This was not the gentle, quiet crying where a few tears roll down your cheeks; instead, it was a torrent of big, heaving, desperate sobs. For far too long, I had struggled to keep everything together, but now I had hit rock bottom. A series of catastrophic events had unfolded. My father had been diagnosed with a brain tumor up in North Yorkshire, while just a few hours away down the M4, the creative agency I had founded was on the brink of collapse. Although I had left the agency a year prior, I was shocked to discover that my financial mismanagement meant the debts were still my responsibility. Meanwhile, at the bottom of the hill, in the beautiful home that had once been our dream, my wife was grappling with a debilitating bout of depression.
At 40 years old, I felt as though I was at my lowest point. As the white male offspring of a lower-middle-class family, I had been afforded various opportunities. Through hard work, I had transformed those opportunities into tangible accomplishments. I was the first in my family to attend university, ultimately making my way to Oxford. By my mid-twenties, I had secured a well-paying job at the BBC. By the age of 30, I had taken the leap to establish my own agency, which initially brought in significant revenue and earned several accolades. To the outside world, my life seemed enviable. However, the years leading up to that fateful Welsh hillside had been far more challenging than anyone could have imagined.
I had spent excessive hours away from my family, consumed by work. Stress weighed heavily on me; managing the overhead costs of a 20-person team in Covent Garden was suffocating. Beneath it all was a deep sense of emptiness, stemming from no longer believing in the very work I was doing.
Transitioning from Control to Liberation
Until that moment, I had felt in control of my life, following a carefully laid plan and directing my own path. But now, I was forced to relinquish control to creditors, lawyers, and banks. For over a decade, I had chased a destination without reflecting on my evolving priorities as I matured. However, in this act of letting go, I discovered an unexpected sense of liberation. Though the coming years—living first in a converted truck and later with my in-laws—were undeniably tough, I was granted the chance to start anew, with a blank canvas before me.
The only dilemma was that I had no idea what to create on that canvas. My immediate priority was to find a way to support my family—my wife and our two young boys—ensuring they were clothed and fed. This led Kate and me to dive into upcycling furniture. With no budget for premises, I vividly recall wrestling with an Ercol chair outdoors in January, questioning whether my trembling hands were due to the vibrations of the hand sander or simply the biting cold. The work was labor-intensive, and our earnings were meager. Yet, it felt honest, practical, and creative. I was liberated from the demands of London, meetings, and the responsibility of paying anyone’s wages but our own.
I remember one day, while running along our local canal, an overwhelming wave of gratitude washed over me. Despite being broke, living under someone else’s roof, and having lost everything I had worked tirelessly for throughout my thirties, I was still with the woman I loved, and we had two healthy children. For perhaps the first time, I realized that nothing else truly mattered.
It’s essential not to romanticize this experience, as life remained incredibly challenging. There were numerous dark, stressful days filled with negotiations with creditors and uncertainty about how we would cover our bills. Trust me, you need to sell a significant number of upcycled mid-century chairs to make a sustainable living! Yet, amidst the struggle, something within me shifted. I began to see my previous decade’s work as a creative director differently; I had never truly cared about persuading people to watch a specific TV channel or drink a particular brand of whisky. What excited me was the creative process itself—the magic of transforming a blank page into a surprising, funny, or heartwarming story.
A New Purpose: Creative Coaching
So, I tentatively began to assist others in igniting their creativity by working as a creative coach. I was convinced, and remain so, that creativity resides within all of us, and our ability to create is one of the most fulfilling aspects of our human experience. I committed to doing everything in my power to help people tap into their creativity. This became my guiding principle, my personal north star. I started conducting creative thinking workshops for former clients, engaged in one-on-one coaching sessions, and authored a book titled Creative Demons and How to Slay Them, which has since been translated into several languages. This summer, on the side of a mountain in Wales, I’m hosting a three-day creative retreat designed to provide individuals with the time and space to align their creative pursuits with their evolving identities—just as I did.
If I could somehow return to that hillside twelve years ago and comfort my 40-year-old self, what would I say? After overcoming the shock of his full head of hair, I would reassure him that his father would remain a vibrant presence in his life, continuing to challenge his liberal views with his trademark Northern humor while pondering the weather. I would tell him that his wife wouldn’t give up and would, over time, conquer her demons. I would remind him that his two boys would continue to astound and frustrate him, filling his life with love in ways he couldn’t yet fathom. Above all, I would emphasize that, although it may feel insurmountable now, every hardship he faces will eventually guide him to a much brighter place.
6 Easy Ways to Spark Your Creativity
Our creativity is an integral part of our identity. If you find yourself feeling lost or questioning the purpose of life, nurturing your creative self can be a fruitful starting point.
- Start small. Avoid overwhelming yourself with grand ambitions like writing a novel or creating a masterpiece. Instead, commit to writing a page each morning about your thoughts, without revisiting or sharing it. Aim for daily practice.
- Begin a simple photo project. Challenge yourself to photograph the numbers 1 to 100 in sequence wherever you encounter them, or capture the same tree every time you pass by on your commute.
- Prioritize quantity over quality. The key to completing any creative project is to focus on producing a body of work without worrying about its quality during the process. Once you have something finished, you can refine and improve it.
- Feed your creativity. Joe Strummer from The Clash once said, “No input, no output.” Keep your creative juices flowing by regularly consuming art, music, films, and literature. Stay observant of the world around you.
- Enjoy the process. The more you relish the creative journey, the less concerned you will be with the final outcome. Focus on the joy of creation, and whether you choose to share your work is entirely up to you.
- Remember Maya Angelou’s wisdom. She famously stated, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” Embrace your stories and let them out.
The Creativity Retreat will take place in Wales from 17–19 June. For more details, visit richardholman.com
