What does an 80's animated movie about a 13 year old witch working as a delivery girl have to do with our modern lives? Surprisingly, Miyazaki's Kiki's Delivery Service is a perfect allegory for modern young creatives trying to make it on their own. Obviously, Miyazaki wasn't talking about the millennial situation specifically when he made the movie in 1989, but the film has some strangely perceptive and timely insights about how to maintain a creative career in today's world. Kiki has to work extra hard to get by in an economy that doesn't value her unique abilities. She has to develop a work-life balance that doesn't completely wear her out. The majority of young Americans just starting their careers say their top priority is enjoying their work or making a difference, not making money or learning new skills, which has been the most important to previous generations. So, Kiki reflects the creative exhaustion and ennui of millennials trying to find fulfilling careers today in a world that seems set up to discourage them.

I. TRYING TO MAKE IT AS A CREATIVE

We're used to aspirational, escapist stories of young women making a name for themselves in a big city. But even though Kiki is a magical witch, her story is a more grounded, gritty take on leaving the nest and trying to set up in a daunting new environment. Kiki's outsider status in her new town is visual - she stands out in her black dress, with her broomstick. When you move to a big city, people won't actually pay much attention to you at all, no matter how different you look, but if you're young and inexperienced, you'll probably feel like everyone is looking at you and judging you. Here, Kiki's Delivery Service makes that insecurity literal.

"They're looking at us" - Jiji
"I know." - Kiki

Jiji voices the inner doubts that strike when we're on our own for the first time.

"Why don't we go find another town? I bet there are bigger and better ones, ones that are friendlier than this. Can we look for a new town?" - Jiji

A big fear for anyone trying to land their first job is that they'll never be qualified, interesting, or experienced enough to get where they need to go. And Kiki's first experience out in the real world is talking with a more established witch-in-training.

"Could you tell me, is it really hard to get settled into a brand new city?" - Kiki
"Oh yes, a lot can go wrong. But since my skill is fortune-telling I can handle anything." - other witch

This other witch is cool, confident, and composed. She makes Kiki feel bad she doesn't have a "special skill". We see Kiki's insecurity visually as she fumbles with her broom. This feeling is especially relatable for young people today entering a flooded job market, being told they need extra skills and experiences they couldn't possibly have developed before getting their first job. But Kiki's self-doubt is amplified because her competition can literally see the future.

"And what exactly is your skill?" - other witch
"Um, I haven't really decided that yet." - Kiki

The nature of Kiki's career is what likens her most to young creatives. Kiki's flying isn't literally an "art" the way we tend to think of the word, but the film equates it to her friend Ursula's painting.

"When you fly, you rely on what's inside of you, don't you?" - Ursula
"Uh huh. We fly with our spirit" - Kiki
"Trusting your spirit - yes, yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about. That same spirit is what makes me paint, and makes your friend bake" - Ursula

Flying is an awe-inspiring skill, obviously. Many people say that if they could have one wish granted, it would be the ability to fly. But like a lot of artistic pursuits, flying on a broomstick isn't something that Kiki's economy deems "valuable" in a financial sense. It sounds absurd that if someone could really fly they couldn't get paid for that. But think about how amazing it is to be able to write a novel, paint a portrait, or capture a beautiful landscape on film - and the vast majority of people who can do these things don't end up finding a career in their field. Only about 10% of college graduates with arts degrees earn their living as artists. So, Kiki can't just fly for her job - she has to adapt her art into something she can monetize - a delivery service. Likewise, people in creative fields invest a lot of time and money in studying and honing their crafts. But just like Kiki, they often have to find more mundane, pedestrian "real-world" applications for their skills, it's the only way they can get paid to do something semi-related to what they love. And it says something pretty sad about what our world values that, if a girl could literally fly, she'd still have to get another job to support herself.

II. LOSING THE MAGIC: CREATIVE BURNOUT

Flying is Kiki's all-consuming passion, but the strain of her job begins to kill her creative drive. The high demand for her services is a double-edged sword: even though she gets to do what she loves for a living, she starts associating flying with drudgery, instead of fun or personal happiness. She realizes her hard work isn't appreciated, and starts to feel frustrated and hopeless. She loses the desire to hang out with friends and can't get out of bed for days. Kiki's depression is a lot like the creative exhaustion that comes with pursuing an arts career.

"Flying used to be fun until I started doing it for a living." - Kiki

And her feeling of futility causes her to lose her abilities to fly and talk to Jiji. The amazing magic she once had just disappears - so here an artist's loss of inspiration due to burnout becomes literal. Kiki's loss of flight symbolically communicates that when you wear yourself too thin and turn your passion into just a job, you'll no longer be able to create. We can connect this especially to today's world. With many salaried positions for people in the arts disappearing, artists are expected to produce and share their work constantly, for little or no pay, so that they have blog posts, or drawings, or short films or what have you to share in the new media landscape. And this may make people feel less and less enthusiastic about their passions. Kiki can't relate to kids her age who aren't going through her same struggle.

"You should have seen how Tombo's friends looked at me!" - Kiki

We might compare this to how a young person in the arts might feel about peers in more stable, lucrative careers - the artist might feel judged or insecure about making less money. In the film, the split is between children who work and children who don't. The privileged kids who don't work are often the recipients of Kiki's deliveries - so she essentially works for them - which can symbolize the way that artists have to cater to rich patrons or companies who might not respect or compensate the art very well. What's interesting about aligning the artist with the child who has to work is that is reverses the unfair perception leveled at aspiring artists that they're somehow lazy for wanting to work in a field they also enjoy - in reality, creative types often have to work harder, for a lot less money. Kiki's loss of her powers is doubly heartbreaking - because she sees it as both a personal and a career failure.

"I'm still in training to become a witch. If I lose my magic that means I've lost absolutely everything!" - Kiki

Her sense of self is based on her flying, just as many young people today feel defined by what they do. If Kiki can't work as a witch, she feels she's not herself. And the girl we meet at the beginning of the film won't even consider the possibility of not making it in the big city.

"If things don't work out, you can always come home." - Kiki's Dad
"And come back a failure?!" - Kiki

But she eventually has to reckon with a moment that all artists face - the temptation to go home and give it all up.

III. WORK-LIFE BALANCE: TAKING TIME FOR SELF-CARE

Kiki's artist friend Ursula represents a counterpoint to the big city lifestyle. It might be easier to stay committed to your inspiration when you live in the woods, whereas Kiki has to contend with a lot more real world problems. But when she goes to visit Ursula, Kiki learns that self-care is an important part of the work-life balancing act. Ursula reminds Kiki that by recharging, she can find her creativity again.

"Take long walks, look at the scenery, doze off at noon... don't even think about flying. And then, pretty soon you'll be flying again!" - Ursula

And after Kiki takes this time for herself, she's ready when true inspiration strikes again. When she sees Tombo in mortal danger, she's immediately motivated to fly because she knows it could save his life. This challenge reminds her why her flying matters, beyond just being a job for money. And thanks to self-care, Kiki's mind is clear, unburdened by the self-doubt that disrupted her powers.

Every artist has to go through a moment of crisis to understand if they could live without their art, or if they love it enough to push through the difficulties.

"I got all caught up in all the training and stuff, maybe I'll have to find my own inspiration." - Kiki

Kiki comes to remember why she loves flying so much. She wouldn't be herself if she couldn't express her identity in this way that comes most naturally to her. In an age when young people overwhelmingly expect their careers to define their identities, Kiki's commitment to doing what she loves makes her a surprisingly relatable heroine for modern times.