Fighting the Fear of Failure in the Creative Process

Thoughts for creators in the thick of it and my current list of Joy Bringers

Business is a metric-driven game, therefore, our emotional sense of success or failure can be directly informed by data. Did you see a return on your investment? Success! Did your new hire close his first deal in Q1? Success! Did the latest campaign generate more traffic? No, engagement is down by X% ( = Failure). These are clear-cut, facts over narrative, outcome-based scenarios to inform how one may emotionally classify an endeavor.

Success and failure in business isn't as simple as I'm making it out to be, of course.

It's an emotional roller coaster, especially for those with the most on the line. What if you are a small business start-up? How long do you keep plugging away, investing all of your own capital and some of your family and friends, not seeing an ROI quite yet, until you throw in the towel? (Yes, I am pessimistic by nature, but also weirdly future-oriented, like an entrepreneur during the apocalypse.) I'm not saying it's a cakewalk, but at least you have data points along the way to inform you of how things are going. You have road signs, fireworks, or flares, something to keep your expectations and emotions in check.

Creative projects or expressions, on the other hand, are formed and assessed in an entirely different arena. The metrics don't kick in until you bring your art to commerce, which is a whole thing in itself. But this morning I'm musing over the phase before...that slice of time when the creative thing is happening within you and coming out on the paper or screen or canvas or whatever materials you are working with. There are no feedback loops built into the creative process except your own inner dialogue. Here, as it is happening, how do you silence the fear of failure? How do you stay in that place of creation without pre-assuming something will be viable in the marketplace? Again, future-orientation Achilles heel screaming its ugly little head off.

Some may argue there ISN'T value for art if it doesn't connect with another person who is willing to buy it - in other words, someone must be willing to pay for it to have inherent value (as in, actual market value). In this scenario, success means selling. What else could success mean? What if we removed the element of money, of buying and owning, and just thought about the creation process? Am I willing to judge something as "good" or "worthy" apart from this scale? Can I simply enjoy the process of creating and that be enough? Where does my real satisfaction come from? 

I'm writing this to you, dear reader, knowing you will read it for free. I write because I don't know what I think until I've written it down (thank you, Joan Didion). It's like a silk spider web up in my brain and I have this constant urge to follow the thread, to untangle the mess, to find out where it leads. George MacDonald wrote about a silver thread that only those with faith could find and follow, gently touching it as they go through life, pursuing the lead until they found wisdom. This action of pursuit, the living, and untangling of it, is where I want to find my success.

Success, to me, is merely rejecting the fear of failure; it sounds so easy, right? I want to continue following the silver thread, to keep pressing on through the dark caverns and heart-stopping precipices, and let it all come out here on the page. I have to do this. I don't know where I've been until I've remembered here, with or without you (but I like that you're here).

Is there a future where the art becomes commerce? Maybe. I can't hold my breath for it but I also can't ignore the impulse to publish. Instead of commerce, I think I am mostly looking for connection. Aren't we all? The fear of failure will try to wedge in here, I suspect, but we can carry on and ignore its lies. I've been snowed into my home for almost 5 days straight and, while I have all of the practical necessities and no real reason to leave, I am yearning to reach out through this medium. I want to know what you are creating and what your thoughts are on the process. Care to share?

Before you go, here are a few things that I am categorizing as “Joy Bringers” -

• This daily calendar from the Met brought a spark of joy last year every time I peeled off a page to reveal another painting. My boys and I even used some of the paintings as inspiration for art history or sketching lessons.

• Wendell Berry’s Hannah Coulter feels a lot like reading about my small, middle-Tennessee town, especially as I imagine it was during my grandparent’s era. It makes me nostalgic for family gatherings as a child but mostly it makes me miss my grandfather.

• Family movie nights. We’re in a nice rhythm of having one every Friday night and making a thing out of it - putting the phones away, making several bowls of popcorn and snacks, picking out a movie that everyone will enjoy. The boys are looking forward to it every week! We’ve gone through most of the Indiana Jones movies recently, and of course, National Treasure. Any recommendations in the adventure/action genre? We’re also fans of classics like Old Yeller and The Little Princess (both have been snow-day picks this week). Lmk!

• Bachan’s Original on scrambled eggs with diced green onion over leftover rice. Just trust, I can’t wait to have it again.

• As a long-time reader of Leandra Medine’s writing, in all of her phases and seasons, it was so good to read this post recently. This sentence got me, because it gets me, ya know? “The task of living is figuring out a way to build enough resilience to honor, respect and nurture your nature (to essentially cultivate values) so as not to abandon it when the culture endorses something different.”

• My favorite primer, which is on sale right now. It works on most skin types so you will probably love it too! It feels cool going on and gives the best glow (sans sparkle). I keep it stocked.

I’m at the bottom of my cup of coffee, so it’s time to wrap this up. If you have thoughts on anything mentioned or mused about, please don’t be shy.

Until next time,

SBL