When Opportunity Knocks & Fear & Self-Doubt Answer
how to keep working in the face of panic
Today I want to talk about that moment in the life cycle of creative work when, after wanting and yearning and WORKING for it – we get what we want (the money, the studio time, programmed in a venue) – whatever it might be.
And after the briefest moment of celebration, a new shitty feeling sets in.
Panic. Sometimes dread. Or both.
Of course, these opportunities are huge boons, but they can be strangely paralysing too.
This phenomenon makes me think the resistance to actually doing our creative work runs deep. Scary deep. Deeper than we’re consciously aware of.
This resistance is a symptom of fear.
When we’re actually given the chance to DO THE THING WE WANT, fears of all forms rise up.
Fear that we’ll fail, that we’re not good enough, that the project will never see an audience. Fear that we’ll be ridiculed, that we don’t have a right to take up space. Fear that we’ll succeed and still not be happy. Fear of all the people we’ll lose if we succeed. Fear that we’ll be found out as a fraud. Fear that we don’t actually know how to do what we want to do, and on and on. I’ve felt all these things, can you relate!?
From my basic understanding of psychology, this fear is one of our ancient survival instincts kicking in. We’re pack animals and this instinct wants to keep us SAFE. It wants to protect us from ever being in a vulnerable position. But this instinct has not evolved with our human consciousness and it’s worth being challenged.
When it comes to committing to your art and creative practice, the experts recommend an approach of ‘I was afraid. And I did it anyway.’
Or as Bukowski says:
‘you can't beat death but you can beat death in life, sometimes. and the more often you learn to do it, the more light there will be.'
I love those sentiments, though they’re easier said than done.
Getting down to my creative work continues to be a daily effort for me (whether I’m busy keeping the wolf from the door with gigs or if I have funding and I'm daunted by the expanse of time before me).
Nonetheless, here are some practical ways I combat this fear and keep at my creative work, day after day:
Keep the thicket tamed
I like to think of the space between my bedroom and my little office as a path that gets overgrown by a thicket. (The thicket is a metaphor for all the neurotic fears and resistance I feel about my work.)
If I make the trek every day, the path becomes well worn and I'm able to keep the thicket from getting too gnarly.
Focus on making the trek to your “desk” regularly. Go there everyday if you can, even if it's for 10 mins. This consistency pays off.Set deadlines with other people
In other words, if you're feeling really sluggish, put a small fire under your bum. Arrange to share some of your work with a friend, or 6, via Zoom. Invite people you wouldn't want to let down and allow that deadline motivate you. I use this one all. the. time.Get a hobby
The joy of being an artist can get sucked out entirely when what was once our passion becomes a job. Do things for FUN that are creative but not about being “good." Let yourself have parts of your life where you are an “amateur," which means you do it for the love of it. I love cutting messages out of paper.Laugh at yourself
Having a loving sense of humour about your resistance and foibles is so useful because it halts you from going from a self-doubt spiral to a self-hate spiral.Fold your fear and doubt into the work itself
Let any feelings that arise it be PART of your creative work rather than a barrier to it. Ask yourself, Where does this feeling exist INSIDE the thing I am creating? Let it exist there. It will make your work richer, more textured, nuanced and honest. (Chef's kiss!)Remember that “writing is about re-writing”
The artistic process is about refinement. One of the wonderful artists in my Solo Show Creation Lab shared this Anne Bogart quotation with us. It's perfect:
“If what Picasso proposed is true, that the first stroke on the canvas is always a mistake, it is best to get on with the mistake, without delay, earlier rather than later. Write one sentence, make one choice or point at something and say “Yes.” And then, as the process unfolds, and as long as I keep at it and stay attentive and resolute, making adjustments to each mistake, things eventually fall into place.”
In his book The War of Art Steven Pressfield talks about the paradox that the more resistance we feel towards our work the more we likely it is that we deeply care about it being good. So be nice to yourself if you’re feeling afraid or doubtful, it’s not a sign you should run but a symbol of how profoundly your work matters to you.
Growth is uncomfortable. It’ll feel good on the other side.
In solidarity with those of you battling fear and doubt, I'm sending you my best.