I put off writing this post. Fear and self-doubt are at the heart of the funks, the distractions, the comparisons, and the deflated egos we talked about this month. I hoped to cure my rampant insecurity so I could share the process with you (not that you need it), and we’d never again have impediments to our magic. I’m nervous writing this paragraph, which I’m taking as a sign I’m not cured.
- Close your eyes.
- Breathe.
- Call a friend.
- Use that fear, paranoia, and doubt in your creativity; express it.
- Kill perfectionism. She writes, “I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won’t have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren’t even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they’re doing it.”
- Write a letter to yourself, a loved one, anyone at all.
- Fill yourself back up with the memories, flavors, ideas, visions, and observations that give life its zest.
- Find those filling things by asking what you’d do if you knew you’d die tomorrow.
- Realize that all of life is recycling the ideas that came before, but you have your own sensibility, pathos, and meaning to add.
- Make a present for someone else.
Elizabeth George exercises.
Madeleine L’Engle said we have to find satisfaction in who we are, the work we produce: “We are never satisfied with what we have done. We know that our best is never adequate. If I had to be satisfied with what I have written I’d still be on my first novel. But I wrote what was for me the best book I could write at that moment in time.”
Make magic the best you can. That is enough.