But then why does it seem like we’re always being encouraged to “just get out there and do it!” without acknowledgment of the stress involved? How do you handle the challenge of trying something new?
Maybe you’re one of those that greet the challenge of novelty with open arms – “Sure! I’ll try it!” you say. Your desire to do it outweighs any anxiety you might have, so you jump right in without worrying too much about it. If that’s you, congratulations! I have no idea how you do it, but I’m very happy for you (and more than a little jealous.) You probably have no need whatsoever to finish reading this.
If you’re like me, this response may sound more familiar: “What exactly do I need to know to do this right? What will happen if I do it wrong? Can I do it privately first, with no witnesses to my failure?” I believe, of course, that my failure is absolutely guaranteed. And that there will be dire repercussions, or at least serious embarrassment. If allowed to run riot, my fearful brain will take me on a ten-month detour to getting around to starting any project.
Working in a field where I am constantly asking my clients to try something they may never have tried before, I think I’ve observed most of the ways folks can respond to the challenge of doing something new. And it seems only fair that I should challenge myself in the same way!
My current challenge – the video camera
I have had a difficult relationship with the camera (still or otherwise) for my whole life. I think my smile is weird, and I don’t even want to know what mannerisms come to light in video, where every eye-roll, unconscious scratch, and “um” gets immortalized, all ready to be sampled for a dreadful GIF. This might not feel like a big deal to anyone else, but for me, it pushes almost all my buttons.
But the thing is, I’ve seen people just being themselves on camera a lot lately (thank you Facebook) from family members to other coaches and therapists. They look like they’re enjoying themselves. I’ve gradually decided that it’s something I not only “ought” to do, but might even have fun doing. The combination of my fear and my desire to be on camera has led me to really think about what’s going on when I ask other folks to dive into their own creative process with me in the studio.
When we really want to do something we’re afraid to do, we are confronted with one of the most basic realities of our human life. There’s a gap between how we want life to be, and how it is. The swimming pool looks so wonderful, but what if we don’t know how to swim? We’re curious, but we’re frightened. I think these two emotions are a major reality for anyone thinking of doing deep personal work. Choosing to do deep personal work with someone can bring both fear and desire right to the surface.
For you to decide to make art, especially if you don’t see yourself as an artist, might be a little bit like me pushing “record.” And to make art for the first time as a part of your deep inner work definitely counts as the highest degree of doing something new.
So why should we do it?
Quite apart from any benefits that a particular new experience might provide for us, there are some other things going on that I think make it even more wonderful. For one thing, we open to the possibility of seeing ourselves differently than before. Our ego-mind, with its eye on minimizing risk and maximizing comfort, often underestimates our capacity to meet a challenge. When we take one on, we get to experience ourselves as courageous, and that’s an incredibly empowering state, that can help us in every other thing we do.
Secondly, and probably most importantly, doing only what we already know how to do will take us exactly where we already are, and get us exactly what we already have. When we try new things and sit in the fear or discomfort of not knowing what it will be like, we have the chance to change. Indeed it’s the only way we can actually grow as people.
Having now made the jump a couple of times, and pushed “record” on a couple of short videos on my Facebook page and I am beginning to see some results for myself. For the first one, I scripted myself and spent a good hour setting myself up to do just a couple minutes of filming. And I recorded it (much) more than once before finally I let it go and pushed “publish!” What fascinates and pleases me is that what I’m most proud of is that action of pushing that button (long delayed, overthought, and convoluted as it was.) The videos themselves are secondary, and can pass away without regret even if they were good and without shame even if they were terrible.
And that is what I hope for everyone who chooses to step courageously into the action of their own creative lives. On the level of soul or personal growth, however you choose to see it, what you paint or sculpt doesn’t matter – but that you dared to confront your fear and embrace your desire to try something new – to paint or weave or write – matters immensely.