Full catastrophe living.

5 or 6 years ago, I was sitting in a room working away and kept getting distracted by some kind of loud, piercing noise. Like Mariah Carey was stuck in the wall and had decided to hit that note from ‘Emotions’ in an attempt to signal for help. Weird things can happen inside agencies, but I was fairly sure that wasn’t it. I tried to ignore it, but it was genuinely driving me mad, so I eventually had to move. But in the next room, I could still hear it. And still again when back at my desk. I wondered if there was an electrical fault in the building or something. Until a pang of fear rippled through my body. Is it just in my head? Can only I hear it?

The noise didn’t stop for days. I’ve seen a lot of live music in my life, including Pink Floyd at 3, Dire Straits at 6, and Faith No More at 11, (those are not set times, I mean 3 years old), with no hearing protection, so figured it was some form of concert-induced ear ringing/tinnitus. It was starting to freak me out, but I figured there’d be an easy fix, pop a pill, take a medicine, so I went to the doctor. Now, anyone who’s been on this journey will know what happens at this point. The medical world knows fucking NOTHING about ears. Legitimately, next to nothing. GPs, audiologists, ENTs, all you get is ‘see if it goes away’, ‘try to just ignore it’, ‘you just have to live with it’.

‘You just have to live with it’? What? A loud, screaming, piercing noise in my head 24/7? That’s all you’ve got? How about I attach your head to the unserviced brakes of an AU Falcon taxi and see if you can ‘just ignore it’.

Enter full catastrophe mode.

From here, I absolutely spiralled. I’ll spare you the full depths of the catastrophe, but it was bad. Anxiety. Depression. Insomnia. It felt like the world was ending, basically.

I’m not a full blown crystal collector that rubs essential oils on my temples each morning to block out the 5G mind control rays, but I like to think of myself as being fairly open minded about things. This wasn’t the first time in my life that western medicine had completely failed me. In my 20s, I’d managed a bunch of sporting injuries and back issues that ‘specialists’ wanted to hack, slash, cut, and pump full of steroids and pills, that I instead overcame via acupuncture, yoga, and the Alexander Technique. Essentially, I’d found that building my own set of tools to manage chronic issues tended to be a better plan. So, I decided to look at this route for my sudden onset of ‘screaming banshee inside your brain syndrome’, aka permanent tinnitus.

I did a lot of research, and found I wasn’t alone. People all over the world were scrambling to deal with this. And not very well. The ‘s’ word came up a lot. But there were pockets of positivity to draw from, and from there I built a playbook. The ingredients were a mix of mindfulness, meditation, CBT, and modern neuroscience. Different tools and techniques, but the end goal was basically to reach a point where you no longer ‘feared the sound’ and it subsequently became less of a focus.

One of the books I picked up was called ‘Full catastrophe living’ by Jon Kabat-Zinn. Basically, it’s a book for people who’ve hit rock bottom with some kind of illness, condition, or ailment, and have to finally come to terms with the fact they were going to have to somehow live through the catastrophe. I probably only read about 20% of it, because it’s the size of a Boeing 737, but it still had a profound effect on shifting my mindset.

It took a long time, maybe 5-6 horrific months, but I got there. The noise is still there. It never left. I can still hear it. But I just no longer care. It’s a part of me now. But, what’s also a part of me, is an understanding of mindfulness and presence, the incredible impact of fear on the human psyche, about 0.001% of modern neuroscience, and the knowledge I can pull myself out of a very deep hole. I’m not going to be one of those maniacs that says ‘I’m glad it happened to me’, because I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but it might be true that I came out a stronger person than I went in.

Now, this is perhaps a ridiculously long and intense analogy for creativity and advertising, but the point I’m meandering towards is that catastrophes can have silver linings.

I’ve never worked in a more catastrophe-laden job than being an advertising creative. Firstly, because creatives are hyper-sensitive people that care too much and can dramatically throw their toys when anything goes wrong. And secondly, because with all the shit we have to deal with we often have every right to.

In his recent (and great) book, Keep shooting until you see the fuckers smoke, Damon Stapleton talks about ‘catastrophe’ as being a key ingredient in every piece of work he’s ever done, and ‘if you can just keep cooking through the madness there will be something that makes the work better lying in the middle of the problem’. And he’s not wrong.

These catastrophes can come from anywhere and everywhere. Briefs completely changing the day before a deadline. CMOs suddenly leaving or being axed, mid-job. Absolutely wild pieces of feedback on approved concepts. I’ve had an entire million dollar shoot put on hold because Kanye West had a mental breakdown (it’s a long story, but I’m being serious). An insane script with dogs owning pets as humans, being treated on by Andreas Nilsson, having its budget pulled at the last minute because of a share price announcement. A CEO come into an edit suite, unannounced, at 10pm the night before a campaign goes on air, with ‘an idea for a new ad’.

But sometimes these catastrophes aren’t always as they appear. (Of course, other times, they absolutely are.) So, feel the anger, the frustration, the disappointment, but then take a deep breath or twenty five, and take a look at the situation again with clear eyes. It pains me to admit it, but every now and then, the glimmer of something better might actually lie in the heart of the storm. Occasionally, that infuriating mandatory can lead to a simpler premise to build around. Now and then, that seemingly mad demand might actually make the thing better. Sometimes, the pipe bomb the client has just thrown into the room could explode with glitter and confetti.

Creatives aren’t really just writers and art directors. We’re problem solvers. And we can turn obstacles into opportunities at a volume and rate like nobody else on the planet. The catastrophes are gonna happen, so you just have to keep finding ways to turn them into something. It not only makes you a better creative over time, but in all honesty it’s also the only way to maintain your sanity in this job.

So, a long-winded post perhaps, but try looking for the silver lining in your next catastrophe. It’ll likely happen before lunch.