“Execution.” We execute capital crime prisoners. We execute documents. We execute plans.
When we “execute,” something dies. Maybe that is why so many plan, but so few execute. In the creative process, we kill our illusions, we kill our favorite biases, and we come to the end of our comfort zone. “Unless a man dies undue himself, picks up his cross, and follows me, he cannot be my disciple.” Jesus, paraphrased. Citation butchered. But the idea is this: something dies, so that something can come to life. When I live creatively, I execute, and there will be bloody detritus to show for it. Think of it as a new mother’s afterbirth. Don’t ask me “why?” In a different world, by a different Creator, there would be joy without pain, gain without cost. But that is not the way of creation.