Fear is static that prevents me from hearing myself – Samuel Butler
Friends, in the spirit of honesty, I have a confession to make.
Writing is hard for me.
Ok – so writing is hard for a lot of people. But as someone who feels a tug on her heart to share via the written word, it feels silly to say writing is hard for me. If writing is my calling, shouldn’t it be easier?
Getting to the root of the problem
Recently I undertook the task of moving all my “in process” writing from my desktop to a categorized cloud-based system. This was at the prompting of more than one friend who, upon seeing my cluttered desktop said, “wow, you have a lot of things on there.”
I wasn’t long into this process before I noticed a surprising trend. Many of the documents aren’t just lists or random ideas, although some of them are. Instead of half-formed thoughts, they’re drafts, often containing 500 words or more, on a topic. Noticing this trend gave me pause.
Why haven’t I posted any of these? Why did I abandon this project for something else?
It took a while to put a name to it, but eventually, I figured it out. Care to venture a guess?
That’s right – fear. Despite my desperate attempt to deny fear as my motivation for many things (any other Enneagram 6s out there?), much of my decision making stems from a constant barrage of “what if” scenarios echoing in my head.
What if I post it and no one likes it? Or, maybe worse, what if everyone likes it? What if someone gets angry at me, or I misrepresent a place or person? What if I never make money from this writing thing? Or what if, one day, writing is the only way I can make money? Will I start to hate it?
Seeing these scenarios written out makes me feel silly. I can’t say why I feel that way exactly, but I do know this – the bottom line is, despite my natural tendency to default to fear, I can’t let it rule the day. Fear has been calling the shots for too long, and it’s time to take back the things that matter to me.
Putting fear in its place
For years, I’ve written in various forms online. In high school and college, I put thoughts on the internet mostly for myself. Post-college, I continued to record thoughts on a personal blog via Blogger. I even had a small, short-lived gig writing online for a newly formed local magazine in the early 2010s.
But this particular space is my first honest attempt at writing for someone else, and the first time I’ve opened my writing up to people I don’t know personally.
And it’s hard.
I don’t feel ready, knowledgeable, or qualified to speak on most subjects.
I’m frustrated with these parts of myself, but I’m also not sure how to change them. So instead of trying to overcome fear, I’m learning to work with it.
When writing about fear, Elizabeth Gilbert says in her book Big Magic, “But above all else, my dear old familiar friend, you are absolutely forbidden to drive.” I, too, know that fear will want to come along with me. But, it doesn’t get to drive.
As one would expect, marriage and moving changed many of my rhythms and routines. Habits that worked in the past no longer fit the bill, and I must be flexible enough to change, too.
In light of this, I’ve taken some time to determine what I need to be successful. This includes things like: time to write in the morning before the bulk of my day gets started, a dish-less kitchen sink, and a cup of something warm next to me. It also means biting the bullet, selling our guest bed (thanks coronavirus), and setting up a desk. A small bit of the house just for me and my words.
Writing has always been important to me, but I’m now taking the steps to make a public declaration: Hear ye, hear ye! Writing matters to me. Please be gracious while I practice how to do it better.
Starting before I’m ready
I’ve only had a desk and a regular morning writing habit for a week or so. But it was clear early – I needed this more than I thought. A set-apart area of the house where nothing else goes on.
Another thing I need is practice. I need to practice letting go of perfection, being brave, and starting before I’m ready. For me, this looks like publishing posts a bit earlier than I might otherwise.
Typically, I let my thoughts simmer for days, weeks, or even months, before sending them out into the world. But I’m challenging myself to post things more quickly, and maybe with less editing or deliberation than I previously thought acceptable. I’ve always striven for perfection, but I’m learning life is more about making progress than being perfect.
Fear is a product of caring deeply about something, about making a conscious choice to move away from our comfort zone. Making that public statement, even if it’s just to your household, dog, or spouse, is a big deal. It’s only in owning what matters to us that we can find joy in discovering and learning from it.
So set up that desk. Buy those paintbrushes. Purchase that course. Do the thing. Saying what matters to us means people can come alongside us, cheer us on, and help us learn.
Of course, it’s not easy to step out in faith, look at fear full-on, and speak our hearts. But, I’ve heard from others that the fear never really goes away, so we might as well to learn to work with it. You can’t outgrow, outrun, or out-think fear. But just because it’s in the car doesn’t mean it’s in the driver’s seat.
Now’s the best time. I’m rooting for you.
