Own Your Inner Grinch
What the Grinch Teaches Us about Creativity and Community
Somewhere between the holiday lights and hosting last weekend’s family Cookie Festival, I realized that the biggest saboteur in my writing life is not time, or technology, or even a bout of the winter blues.
My biggest saboteur is my Inner Grinch.
I imagine you know a similar Grinch in your creative life, too. That creature who crosses its arms, narrows its yellow-green eyes, and speaks the following words in its baritone, gravely voice: “Why bother? You have nothing new to say, and even if you did, who are you to say it, anyway?”
I considered smothering my Grinchy saboteur with a bowl of creamy Who Pudding, but a better idea sprang to mind. While I’ve seen the 1966 cartoon version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas dozens of times, I took a step back to watch it once more as a detached observer, focusing on the question: What’s the Grinch teaching me?
Theodor Geisel, as Dr. Seuss, created the Grinch with a similar question. By the late 1950s, as a highly successful author, illustrator, and cartoonist, he began to question the purpose and meaning of the holiday season. The postwar boom ushered in an increasingly commercialized, rapidly mechanizing society. TV dinners replaced the family table, and Christmas was driven more by marketing than magic and miracles.
The Power of Naming
Naming is the first step to creative empowerment. “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” the story’s signature song, calls out the multiple saboteurs that make up the Grinch’s personal character. As I listened to the lyrics, I created a list of at least 15 types of saboteurs.
Catchy tune, right?
The Power of Claiming
Claiming is the next step.
If naming is identifying the saboteur, claiming is recognizing how it actually operates in your creative life. How does the saboteur show up in your body, your habits, your patterns of delay or self-protection?
For me, Perfectionism feels like a “brain full of spiders.”
Each spider means well. Each one insists it’s helping. But together they weave a messy, sticky web of almosts: almost ready, almost clear, almost good enough. The result is either a vicious circle of revisions or an overwhelming paralysis from too many threads and too little daylight.
As I listened again to the song, line by line, I began to understand what Dr. Seuss was really up to. Each insult is exaggerated. That’s the point. Humor loosens the grip. Naming becomes claiming when we stop moralizing and psychoanalyzing the saboteur and start observing it with curiosity.
Which brings me to an experiment that I’d like to invite you into.
A Caption Contest for Your Inner Grinch
If you scroll through the gallery of saboteur images below, you’ll see a cast of familiar characters from the song, You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.
as cuddly as a cactus
a seasick crocodile
a brain full of spiders
a bad banana with a greasy black peel
and more…
Think of this as a New Yorker-style caption contest. Choose the image that most resembles your Inner Grinch, and write a caption that kindly makes fun of how it operates. Let the saboteur speak. Let it reveal itself. Let it become a character rather than an authority.
For example, here’s what my brain full of spiders might be saying to one another.
Once the spiders start talking, their power diminishes. Once the saboteur has a voice, it is no longer your voice. Claiming breaks the saboteur’s pattern.
Now, it’s your turn to claim your saboteur.
The Power of Owning
Owning is the final step.
Owning doesn’t mean defeating or banishing the Inner Grinch. It means welcoming the saboteur into the circle without giving it the microphone.
This is where the charming Whos of Whoville matter most.
What ultimately transforms the Grinch isn’t correction or punishment. It’s community. It is the realization that connection exists even when things aren’t perfect. Making meaning and creating joy are not manufactured, external goods. Making meaning and creating joy come from the heart, with its intention to share.
Owning your Inner Grinch means saying:
I see you.
I know what you’re trying to protect.
And I’m choosing to create anyway.
This is the moment when perfection surrenders its grip and collective participation takes its place.
Why This Matters (and Why Now)
We are living in a moment that rewards visibility, speed, and often, incivility at the expense of voice, depth, and honesty. For many writers, especially those with long creative lives behind them, the Inner Grinch doesn’t shout. It rolls old tapes of frustration. It waits. It convinces us that silence is prudence.
But silence isn’t wisdom. It’s just an unused voice.
As I remind myself each day, the true gift of a creative life is not perfectionism. It’s expression. And expression needs and thrives in community.
An Invitation
If this post sparks something in you, I invite you to follow your intuition.
Beginning in January, I’ll be opening The Writer’s Spiral, a monthly guided practice for writers 55+ who want structure, fellowship, and a path to ground their voices in Substack’s ecosystem. It’s included for all paid subscribers, and designed to meet you exactly where you are.
But for now, start here:
Name your Inner Grinch.
Claim how it operates.
And try owning it through humor, generosity, and a little Whoville spirit.
Sometimes the heart grows three sizes, not because we conquer the Inner Grinch, but because we finally invite it into the circle of community.