Taking a big step in the direction of your dreams seems like it should be easy, right?
After all – isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?
So then why do I get emails like this:
Hi Sam —
I just wanted to put it out there that I am feeling rather nervous and scared about coming to The Big Yes.
The old feelings of ‘lack’ and ‘scarcity’ and ‘putting everyone else’s needs ahead of my own’ keep popping up. Initiating changes has stirred things up – money considerations, etc. are causing doubts and guilt. Yikes!
Stuff at work is unsettled, some family stuff has come up…. (I could go on and on, but I won’t).
Any thoughts or words of wisdom to share?
M.
Do you know the feeling?
Yep. Me, too.
So I wrote back:
Dear M —
YES! YES! YES!
HOORAY for you for noticing the old patterns that keep you stuck!
Because, honey — that’s it. And know that this is ALL you need to move forward: the knowledge that all that old crap — all those doubts and fears — are just an express elevator to hell.
Your FUTURE is on the other side of all this discomfort.
Learn to welcome the discomfort. It means you are trying something new. It means you are growing. It means you are just ONE DEGREE away from being exactly where you want to be.
The trouble is that this uncomfortable moment you are in right now is where most people quit.
The pressure is too much.
The money-thing seems so real. (SO real!)
The family thing flares up.
The monsters under the bed somehow double in population and – hey – who gave my Mom’s voice the megaphone???
Take it from me, babe – it’s all an illusion.
The money thing is an illusion (you know it will work out. it always does.)
The family thing is an illusion (you know they will be just fine no matter what and you staying stuck doesn’t help them one bit)
The monster thing is an illusion (you’ve known that forever)
So…deep breath. Welcome to your future.
Time for some comforting reading (Harry Potter, anyone? Annie Lamott?), extra kleenex, get a lot of sleep and maybe buy a cute new outfit or get your hair done.
Call a supportive friend. Journal. Be here now.
You can do it!!!
All this fear and anxiety is just the SIGN you’ve been waiting for that you MUST do it.
Think of this as stage fright: you’re about to start starring in your own life.
It’s perfectly natural to have jitters.
And still — the show must go on.
(Can you imagine if you stopped the show now, just because you got scared? The audience sent away…the sets torn down…the chorus girls taking off their make-up…. it’s too sad to even contemplate. You MUST go on!)
HOORAY for you!
And HOORAY for you reaching out and admitting the TRUTH!
I can’t WAIT to see what happens next.
xoxooxoxo
Sam.
And if you’re interested in YOUR future, then please join me for a LIVE encore of one of the most popular free webinars I’ve ever done:
The recording will be available afterwards, but there’s a very special offer that’s going to be made, and you’ll want to be there live. I’m not trying to be all hype-y, I’m just saying that I think you’ll be mad at yourself if you miss this opportunity.
If you have any questions, thoughts or comments please email us at Leonore@TheOrganizedArtistCompany.com or give us a call at (805) 881-3699.
Thank you so much for being a part of my circle….
And please do tell me how it goes for you, OK? I’m always interested to hear about your projects.
I have a question. The book that I want to write…I am wondering if it will be useful or if anyone would want to read it.
What do I do with this feeling of ‘who cares about your work, all the effort you put in is useless….’
If you could help I would be grateful.
Best, A.
Dear A.,
Every single person throughout human history suffers from self-doubt, secretly believes they are a fraud and wonders if anyone will care about their work.
You are not alone.
In fact, your doubts may be part of what makes you an artist. I’ve heard it said that only dilettantes and amateurs never doubt their talent.
And I’ve noticed that the more daring the creative idea, the more vicious and violent those critical inner voices can become.
So over time, I’ve learned this:
the louder & meaner the voices in my head are, the greater the probability that I’ve just had a really juicy idea.
Think of it this way: the voices in your head are trying to keep you safe. They don’t want you to put yourself in a vulnerable position. They try to scare you into inaction by telling you that no one will care about your work. Or worse, that people will judge you harshly.
But art is about making yourself vulnerable.
That’s kind of the point.
Or at least part of the point.
And let’s face facts – it’s possible that you will create something that other people don’t care for.
Fear of failure is entirely reasonable. But it’s no reason not to do your work.
As long as your work remains unwritten in your head, it has no effect on anyone. Except you. And then not in a good way.
Once you let your idea out of the hermetically sealed vault of your brain and out into the fresh air, the idea will immediately start to evolve. The minute you get it down on a piece of paper, it will change.
And then, once you let it out of the house – once someone else gets to experience it – then you are all changed.
You are changed.
The project is changed.
The audience is changed.
That’s the alchemy of art.
And here’s a real-life example:
Nedi, a 365 Club Member, worked with her son to compose a song about Autism. She finally got the courage to get it mastered, and she posted it online. She started getting emails and responses – including one from Kate Winslet’s Golden Hat foundation (http://www.goldenhatfoundation.org/) and now she’s created a Kickstarter Project to move the project into its next phase: http://kck.st/NBCsLo
Here’s what Nedi herself said:
Before three weeks ago, I thought to myself “Who cares if I do my 15 minutes?” But THEN a little voice said to me, “Samantha would care.”
So, on the off chance that the voice was right, and to keep myself on track: I will tell you that I completed 30 min. the first week, 60 the next, and since yesterday’s call – 90 min!
Much Gratitude and Affection, NEDI
Inspiring, right?
Those critical voices will always be with you. I’ve never met an artist who didn’t struggle against them. Me included.
It’s up to you to decide if they get to run the show.
I can’t guarantee you that getting your work out there will always lead to success.
I can guarantee you that not getting your work out there will always lead to feelings of failure.
If you would like a very inexpensive way to get some additional encouragement and support, you might enjoy participating in the extremely groovy membership club I’ve started — we’re having a blast!
We all get disappointed sometimes. And mostly we follow a pretty simple process of feeling tremendously upset, thinking about it way too much, then finding some way to comfort ourselves and then moving on. With the help of some friends, some carb-heavy comfort food (or herb tea or martinis or double-chocolate
fudge crunch ice cream or whatever your narcotic of choice may be…) and perhaps a period of true unbridled wallowing, we get over it.
Mostly.
But some disappointments linger. Some become a permanent part of our internal landscape. Some even feel as though they have become part of our identity, and we almost can’t imagine letting them go, even though they cause us so much pain.
Here’s the good news: you’re reading this.
That tells me that you:
Actually WANT to get over it
Can at least sort of imagine that you COULD get over it
Welcome to Bouncing Back from Disappointment: Three Strategies to Really Get Over It.
I hope we’re going to make some good progress
here – I can’t guarantee anything, but I have seen people make some miraculous shifts in very brief amounts of time, so I
wouldn’t rule anything out. Now, it’s not possible to “unthink” something, and you can’t not feel the way you feel
about something. There’s no magic pill.
But you can
unscrew the bolts a little bit on the ideas that are keeping the experience both fixed and
painful.
(One possible exception: Grief. My
experience is that other kinds of pain and disappointment can shift and move
but grief – even old grief – just sweeps up on you and feels for all the world like it just happened this morning. So I want you to be working on a specific
frustration or disappointment or failure here, and I want you to pick one, but
if it’s a Grief, then maybe, just for the purposes of today, pick another, less
knotty one.)
Everybody have one particular disappointment in mind? Good.
Maybe it’s just a little one: I over salted the
turkey meatloaf the other night and I’m a little disappointed in myself.
Or a medium one: I’m still so bummed I
never finished college, or that we got outbid on that house.
Or a big one: I got fired.
Or a really big one: I still can’t
believe he or she had that affair.
Now, let’s get a
reading here:
On a scale of 1-5, how disappointed are you about your
thing?
1 = Actually, I’m mostly
over it
2 = Still stings a bit
3 = This causes me some pain when I think about it
4 = Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!!!!!!!
5 = I almost can’t imagine EVER being over this
Are you at a 1, 2, 3, 4 or 5? Whatever it is, just guesstimate and write
down the number.
It’s important that you be honest with yourself about your level of disappointment.
Sometimes we can get caught up in Enforced Optimism (“Oh, it’s all good…”) or Depressive Diminishment (“It’s no big deal”) and I don’t want that. I want you to haul the monsters out from under the bed and look them in the eye. Be straight with yourself. There’s no sense pretending that you feel all yippee-skippy when you don’t, and there’s no sense hanging on to a disappointment from which, you discover, you are really mostly already recovered.
STEP ONE: We Are Not Amused (but maybe we could be…)
So the first thing I want you
to do is give this event a new, more disastrous name. Really exaggerate. Unleash your Inner Drama Queen. Go for it. Write it down.
“I blew the presentation,” could be
re-named “I’m Headed For The Poorhouse For Sure!!!”
“I fell off my diet,” becomes “I Am
The Walrus, Koo Koo Ka Choo”
“I didn’t finish my novel,” becomes “I Will Never Be A Real Writer Ever Ever Ever Ever Ever”
Got it?
Be melodramatic. Make yourself laugh.
(It’s great if you can do this with a trusted friend who can laugh with you.)
How does it feel to give it this extreme name? What do you notice? What shifts?
Next, I want you to write down a really minimizing name for your event. Brush it off. Spin it like a crooked politician. Or imagine you have an eccentric great-aunt who hears about your disappointment and just waves it away with a word. What does she call it?
“Nobody’s buying my product,” becomes “Well, This Has Been Some Fascinating Market Research…”
“I’ll never get another date,” becomes “Oh, Pish Posh, Silly Old Dating, Who Cares?”
“I’m chronically disorganized,” becomes “I Am So Creative With Where I Put Things!”
Again, write them down and notice how each one feels. (Don’t worry – you can always go back to the same way you’ve always felt. No pressure.)
We’re
just experimenting with perspectives here, so you don’t need to actually believe your new names for this event, but you do need to acknowledge that there may be some alternatives to the lonely, empty feeling you’ve allowed the memory of this event to trigger in you.
If you like this Step, then keep going:
– What would your dearest, best friend call this event?
– What would your Guardian Angel call it?
– What would a poet call it?
– What would a late-night infomercial spokesperson call it?
– What would a gypsy fortune-teller call it?
Experimenting with different names can remind you that when it comes to your own life, you are in a position of choice.
You get to decide what you think about it.
And that can move you from feeling like a disappointed victim to feeling like the confident, empowered, creative genius that you truly are.
NOTE: I’m curious – what names did you come up with? Please comment because I’d love to hear them!
