Getting Started, Fear and All

How many times have you dreaded doing something only to finally get it done and say, “Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be”? Why is the first step always the hardest?

We talk ourselves into and out of things, build up obstacles that don’t exist, create imposing facades that stand between us and what we want. And all for what? Why do we do this? Because we're afraid.

Fear is a powerful motivator--or demotivator. Fear of failure; fear of the unknown; fear of looking foolish because we don’t know what the hell we’re doing.

But if it stops us from reaching our goals, where’s the benefit in letting fear control what we do? What possible advantage could there be in letting fear keep us from our dreams?

Perversely, the emotion that inhibits us is meant as a safeguard. Fear protects us from the unknown. The unknown feels threatening because it contains factors we cannot predict. But you know what? Life is unpredictable. It just is. You can’t manage everything.

When you have trouble getting started, ask yourself, “What am I afraid of? What’s the worst that could happen?” Take the argument out to its conclusion to see what it is you actually fear: “If I finish my novel and then try to get it published and no one wants it, I will have wasted X years of my life and will be depressed and feel like a failure.” Well, that’s pretty sad. Except it’s based on an assumption that isn’t true.

If you spent X years of your life doing something you wanted to do, like writing a novel that you always wanted to write, that time was not wasted. How is it more wasteful than doing other things you’ll be doing to pass the time? What if you spent that time playing pool or watching television? You wouldn’t tell yourself, “I cannot ever watch any TV (or play pool, or video games, or anything else amusing) because I will have wasted my life and then I’ll be a failure.” Sure, one could argue that time spent watching TV is wasted. But the point is that we all have things we like to do when we’re not actually engaged in earning a living. We don’t usually call ourselves a failure because we spent some time doing something we enjoy.

Another way to look at it: If you spent the same amount of time reading books as you would have spent writing that book, would you consider yourself a failure? Of course not. And if you write the book and your book doesn’t sell a single copy, you’ll still have something that you created, an accomplishment to be proud of, whether anyone else buys it or not.

Yes, not being published, if that’s what you want, would be disappointing. But being depressed and feeling like a failure would be a choice—one you can choose not to make. You can redefine your dream to make the act of creation the goal, and not what happens to your creation afterward. Then you have nothing to fear.

So, write the book already. And then write another one.