I was talking with an old friend the other day about church. While we were talking, he pointed out that although most Christian denominations affirm the centrality of Jesus, it’s really the “other stuff” that defines each of them as unique. Then he said something that really stuck with me – not because it was especially profound, but because it was such common sense.

He said, “when we spend all of our time worrying about the peripherals, those things become our focus whether we realize it or not.”

Despite one’s personal convictions about religion or spirituality, that’s a powerful statement. Admittedly though, it’s kind of a “no, duh!” sort of statement. It makes sense that the things and ideas we surround ourselves with will affect what we do and how we think and who we are.

In my efforts to hone my craft as a graphic designer, I’m always looking for inspiration. I get a kick out of seeing the clever work produced by my peers. To that end, I’ve created all kinds of social media accounts in an effort to connect with other creative professionals.

But I have to confess that recently, I’ve gotten caught up in a curious trend. It happens innocently enough at first. I see something I don’t agree with, or something I find odd, or something rubs me the wrong way. In an effort to vent – and, if I’m totally honest, a self-righteous endeavor to make the world a better place – I fire off a remarkably clever tweet with a snarky hash tag (#), and take pride in my service to the community. It was brought to my attention lately, however, that I commit the ultimate “EPIC FAIL” myself when I look for some reward in gleefully pointing out the shortcomings of others.

As a design professional, my central responsibility is to help people find solutions. Simply put, I want to make things better. A peripheral and important part of that work is certainly identifying problems. But if I spend all of my time pointing out the flaws, then I’m really just a paid complainer, at best.

A little more than a week ago, I wrote what I thought was a really great little blurb slamming the use of “creative” as a job title. My premise was that creativity should underscore everything a professional does, and that we should let our work define us as creative as opposed to making a claim that isn’t necessarily so (there are some effective solutions to problems that aren’t necessarily creative). After I finished writing, I sat back and read my article. I was surprised by my own bitterness. In my thinking, the arguments were solid. But the tone of the article was really spiteful. I didn’t want to be that guy.

So I pulled the piece and took some time to re-think how this space can improve the communities that I’m a part of. Maybe it’s still pretty self-righteous to think I can make the kind of impact I’m imagining, but at the very least, I have resolved not to be the constant, bitter critic. Rather than dedicating my time and energy to bashing (or hashing) others, I’ll be on the lookout for things to share that go above and beyond the mundane. My goal is for this blog (and, as I’m writing, I have to think maybe my life, as well) to be a space dedicated to the central goal of making things better. I can’t do it perfectly. And I can’t do it alone. I hope you’ll join me.