Five Questions To Guide Your Creative Decisions

Actor thinking about a difficult creative decision

A few years ago, I made a choice that didn`t turn out too well. In it made me think about decisionmaking. And how to know, where to spend our time and energy.

I was offered two roles in different theatre productions, for the same time period. So I hade to choose one of them.

On paper, it looked like an easy choice. One of them, a major theatre institution. A well-known director. A project that seemed like a clear step forward. I said yes to that one. But to be honest, it didnt turn out so well. For different reasons.

The other production — smaller, stranger, led by someone I barely knew — ended up receiving several awards.

What stayed with me wasn’t the outcome itself. It was the realisation that when I made that decision, I had ignored something in myself. I chose the option that looked right on paper. Not the one that felt right. Because honestly, I had a really good feeling about the project I turned down.

Over the years, working as an actor and filmmaker, I’ve had to make many decisions like this — choosing between projects, ideas, collaborations, and directions that could easily take months or even years of my life.

And one thing has become increasingly clear:

Creative success is almost impossible to predict.

The projects that look impressive from the outside sometimes lead nowhere. Meanwhile, strange or uncertain ideas occasionally become the work that matters most.

Because of that, I’ve gradually developed a few questions I return to when deciding what to pursue. Regardless if its about my own projects, or the work of others where I participate.

They’re not rules. More like signals that help me cut through status, fear, and ego.

Btw, here´s a youtube video of this article, if you prefer watching over reading:


1. Does the idea keep returning?

Some ideas disappear quickly.

Others keep coming back when you’re not even thinking about them — while walking, cooking, or lying awake at night.

That persistence usually means something.

Not necessarily that the idea will succeed, but that it resonates on a deeper level.

Over time I’ve also noticed that intuition and ego feel very different.

Ego tends to be loud. It pushes for recognition, status, or validation. It demands to be heard and goes on and on, nagging about the same topic.

Intuition is quieter. It whispers, and doesn`t demand your attention.

And the ideas that keep returning quietly, are often the ones worth paying attention to.


2. Does the idea make you slightly uncomfortable?

I’ve noticed something about many of my strongest creative ideas.

At first, they often feel a little embarrassing. So our impulse is to avoidance that type of work, to not go there.

Not because they’re necessarily shocking or provocative, but because they reveal something honest. Something personal.

As creators, we often sense that honesty before anyone else does. And that vulnerability can feel uncomfortable.

But I’ve come to see that discomfort as a signal.

If you want an audience to go somewhere deeper, you usually have to go there first.


3. Would this divide people?

Sometimes I ask myself a simple question:

Who would dislike this?

If the honest answer is “no one,” there’s a good chance the idea is too safe.

Many of the creative projects that have meant the most to me — both personally and professionally — have had strong reactions attached to them.

Some people loved them. Others didn’t.

But very few felt completely indifferent.

The work that inspires us most is rarely neutral.


4. What happens if I don’t do it?

Another useful test is imagining the opposite decision.

What happens if I simply walk away?

Sometimes the feeling is relief. In that case, the answer is clear.

But sometimes there’s a quiet sense of regret — the feeling that something important might be left unexplored.

Regret is often easier to trust than motivation.

Motivation comes and goes.
Regret tends to linger.


5. Who does this ask me to become?

When considering a creative path, the first questions are usually practical ones.

Do I have the skills?
The time?
The resources?

Those questions matter. But I’ve found another one even more revealing:

Who does this decision ask me to become?

Some opportunities simply ask you to repeat what you already know how to do. And that where most of us naturally gravitate.

Others require you to grow — creatively, professionally, or personally.

That doesn’t mean you should always chase the most difficult option. But ideally, the work we choose should stretch ourselves in some way. To me, that`s the whole point of creativity. The expansion of our souls.

Therefore. Growth is often a better signal than safety.


A final thought

There are no perfect creative decisions.

Sometimes the project that looks promising fails. Sometimes the strange one succeeds. We do ourselves a disfavor by striving for certain outcomes.

But our priorities and decisions are still important. Because they reflect something deeper — our values, curiosity, and the kind of artists we want to become.

Over time, those choices shape very different careers and lives.

The older I get, the less interested I am in trying to chase status.

Awards, money, recognition — none of those things can ever be guaranteed.

What matters more is whether the work itself feels meaningful.

Creative careers are built slowly.

It’s about continuity — the ability to keep making things over time, ideally without needing anyone’s permission. And if the work helps you grow along the way, that might already be enough.

Everything else can come as a bonus after that.

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