Sacred vs Shared: Not Everything You Make Is Meant to Be Seen (and That’s Okay)

At some point in every creative journey, we all ask the same question:Is this something I should share, or is it just for me?

Recently, this topic came up in a conversation within The Good Place community, and it opened up some deep reflections on boundaries, burnout, and the delicate balance between art and vulnerability. What started as a check-in became something much more layered—and honestly, healing.

From Sharing Everything to Holding Some Things Back

Amy shared how a new series she’d been working on—personal, spiritual, complex—was created completely off social media. She made the intentional decision not to share it with anyone but one trusted person, even though everything in her professional world was nudging her toward turning it into an exhibition.

At first, the idea of “launching” the work felt natural. But as time passed, it started to feel heavy. Tiring. Even wrong.

“It’s not about the work of putting on an exhibition,” she said. “It’s about not wanting to be emotionally exposed in that way.”

That shift in perspective was a relief. Letting go of the expectation to “show” everything gave her space to process what the work had stirred up—without the noise of outside feedback.

The Risk of Self-Exposure Before You're Ready

Demi brought in an important point: sometimes, when we share work that’s rooted in personal pain—especially before we’ve fully healed from it—it can feel like we’re participating in our own harm.

“It can feel like you’re violating your own soul,” she said. “Like you're asking others to validate something that you haven’t fully held for yourself yet.”

That stuck with all of us. Because we know the pattern: we make something from a place of honesty, and then rush to offer it up before we’ve had a chance to fully sit with it ourselves.

Creating vs Producing: A Subtle but Powerful Difference

Amy mentioned a small but eye-opening moment. A friend pointed out that she switches between saying she’s “creating” and “producing” her art. And the more she thought about it, the more it made sense:

• Creating is intuitive, personal, nourishing.

• Producing feels external, pressured, and often performative.

“I don’t want to produce art,” she said. “I want to create it.”

This resonated. So many of us fall into “production mode” without realizing it—especially when art becomes our job or brand.

Not All Art Needs to Be Shared

Daniela helped frame the idea of sacred vs shared as a kind of spectrum. Not everything we create has to go public—and that’s not a loss.

Think of it in layers:

1. For you only – private, sacred, for your own healing or joy

2. For trusted people – shared in safe spaces

3. For broader circles – perhaps shown when it feels ready

4. For the world – when the work (and you) can stand in that space

“You can share what’s sacred,” Daniela said. “But you need to know when—and with whom.”

That kind of discernment doesn’t stifle creativity. It protects it.

Letting Slowness Guide the Process

Another theme that kept coming up was pace. We live in a world that pushes us to be fast, visible, and constantly outputting something. But sacred work needs slowness. It needs room.

“We need our souls to catch up to our bodies,” Demi said.

Whether it’s weaving, painting, writing, or thinking, we’re learning that slower often means more honest. It’s how we stay present with ourselves, instead of defaulting into automatic performance.

Maybe We Need to Rethink What "Exhibition" Means

What if sharing art didn’t always mean putting it in a gallery or on a feed? What if it could be more intimate? Slower? Relational?

Amy reflected on the idea of showing work to small groups. Or inviting only a few people into a space at a time. Reclaiming what it means to show something—without sacrificing what it means to feel safe.

Maybe the world doesn’t need more content.Maybe it needs more carefully held experiences.

The Takeaway: Trust the Feeling

So if you're sitting with something you’ve made and wondering whether to share it, here's the question that might help:

Does this feel like something I want to protect or offer?

If it still feels raw, tender, or heavy—it’s okay to wait. It’s okay to keep it close. That doesn’t make it less valuable. If anything, it makes it more.

You can still be a “real” artist. A “serious” creative.Even if some of your work never leaves the quiet room where it was made.

💬 Want help building your own creative systems?

Explore our coaching and mentoring offerings at www.goodplace.co.zaLet’s figure out what works for you.