How I Make Time for the Work That Actually Matters

Tips for creatives trying to balance paid work with soul work

Like a lot of working writers, I spend a good chunk of my time writing about things I don't particularly care about. Pest control, crypto platforms, debt relief programs, hot dog buns, you name it. If it pays, I'll probably at least try to write it, and most days, I do.

But the writing that actually feeds me? The spiritual essays. The longform explorations of self. The storytelling that lets me really dig into topics I care about. The visual art that sparks something I'm proud to share with others, even if they don't "get it," per se. That’s what I've always had to fight to make time for, often failing miserably.

And if you're anything like me, you might be in a similar boat.

The work I genuinely love doing isn’t always profitable or even productive. It's definitely not urgent by society's definition. But I've realized over the years that it’s what makes me feel like I have a reason for being here. It’s the work that reflects who I actually am, not just what I can do or how I can potentially serve the rest of society.

I think of it as my Eight of Cups work. The cups that may not look as impressive or stable as the ones I’ve walked away from, but that I actually feel excited about drinking from. (Sometimes, there's even sparkling Chardonnay or cold lemonade in there. Yum!)

And lately? I've actually been consistently showing up for that work without shirking my obligations to my clients or ghosting the bills I still need to pay.

Accepting the Reality of Your Energy

A huge turning point for me was accepting that I don’t have infinite energy, especially as I get older. That I’m not going to walk away from a jam-packed day of ghostwriting articles for clients and then bang out a spiritual essay, design a new T-shirt, or rewrite the ending to my latest short story.

That used to frustrate me. But these days, I plan around it.

Instead of trying to force myself into some rigid daily content grind, I finally seem to have learned to build my creative routine around my natural rhythms. For example, I write my best essays and newsletter posts on weekdays when I first get up. 

I know I have a much smaller window of usable energy on weeknights, but also that those windows are perfectly suitable for banging out product descriptions or marketing blogs for clients. (There's also no way I'll ghost a client deadline, even if I'm tired, while I definitely might if it's just something I planned on writing for myself.)

I know that some days I just don’t have it in me at all. (Hello, weekends.)

So I:

• Track when I actually feel creative and use that info to plan better
• Keep a light, medium, and heavy creative task list so I can meet myself where I am
• Don’t wait for a whole free day to work (because even 20 good minutes can do wonders)

How I Structure My Creative Workweek Now

Over the past few months, I've settled into a revolving content production rhythm that really works for me, and it's starting to yield fruit. At this point, I've successfully restarted my blog, as well as my accounts on my favorite content publishing platforms (e.g., Medium and Quora). 

I finally got around to conceptualizing and launching my Substack newsletter, The Writer in the Wild, as well as have a second esoteric-themed newsletter – The Bone Garden – set to launch in October. 

I started the t-shirt shop I've been wanting since forever, as well as settled into an upload rhythm on my various art platforms. And it's all thanks to a weekly rhythm that helps me stay grounded and consistent without burning out. 

The key for me is treating my personal projects with the same seriousness I would a professional deadline or a client assignment. I finally stopped putting them off endlessly. If I have to reschedule, I do so intentionally, not just because paid work "matters more."

Some other things that help:

• Flexible theme days that make sense (e.g., newsletter posts on Monday or art tasks mid-week)
• Pairing creative work with rituals I enjoy (music, incense, tea, comfort movies)
• Talking to myself like a client: "You said you wanted to work on this. Can we give it 30 minutes today?"

I finally realized that people can't discover creative work I'm not consistently putting out there. I also can't expect others to give my work their time or take it seriously when I'm not even doing that myself. 

Permission to Be in Progress

So, if you’re feeling behind, overwhelmed, or like you’re never doing enough, I see you. I’ve been there. Honestly, I still go there sometimes. But I’ve also learned that your creative self doesn’t need to work full-time to be real. It just needs to be acknowledged and given space to express itself on a regular basis.

You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to keep showing up.

Even if all that means on a given day is that you write a paragraph. Even if you only light a candle and sit with your idea. Even if you miss a week. It still counts. It still matters. You can always choose to get up tomorrow, this weekend, or next Monday and give it another try.

Because your soul work deserves to be part of your actual life, not just your fantasy "someday" life.