Sunday, May 17, 2020

Name Your Fear


If I understand the concept of FOMO (fear of missing out), I don't think I've really experienced it. If I see a photo of someone traveling through Switzerland or lounging around on a yacht, I think "That's awesome!" But I don't think, "Aw man, I'm missing out on all the good stuff in life."

That's because I'm fortunate enough to be surrounded by people I love, working on a career that gives me a sense of purpose, and developing artistic projects that make me feel fulfilled. Also, I'm an introvert. I don't really want to get out much. (I'm writing this during the Covid-19 crisis, and I've embraced the stay-at-home orders without the slightest qualm.)

But I do have some other "writerly fears," which I explore in my latest YouTube Video:




As I mention in the video, the fear that gauls me the most is FOMI (the fear of mediocrity / insignificance )

When I am working on a project, I usually begin by thinking "This is genius!" However, somewhere along the way I start to believe, "No, this is just so-so, sub-par, meh." I sometimes feel the work is not important enough. Or I feel that if I don't have a large audience reading / viewing my work, then it must mean than my work is a failure, or just not interesting enough to warrant attention. i.e.: my work is insignificant. 

This feeling of FOMI doesn't prevent me from working, but it does hinder the joy of the artistic process. For example: this blog post. I am writing it knowing that not many people will read it. The lack of a wide audience doesn't stop me from writing it, and it doesn't stop me from sending it out into the world. Yet, part of me is imagining that these words will be meaningful to many others. And when I look at the view count to find that less than a dozen people have happened upon this little blog, I'll feel just a little melancholy. I'll experience just a bit of uncertainty about what to write next. Where should I turn my ambitions? Should I care about reaching more readers? Should I just write purely for myself? These are fine questions to consider once in a while. But I don't want to be plagued with these questions all the time -- but that's what can happen with FOMI.

I go through a cycle:

Creativity (Hooray -- I made something!)

Disappointment (in the lack of excellence and/or attention )

Comparison (I judge myself based on the achievements of far more successful people)
                    ---> by the way, is this an example of FOMO? Good old fashioned envy?

Uncertainty (about what I should work on next)

And then, after overcoming the combination of self-deprecation, jealousy, and ambivalence, I eventually commit to a new project and the cycle continues.

I've told myself in previous blog posts, that I shouldn't just use this blog as a place to whine. But I'm blogging about this right now because I feel like I'm in a really good place. I'm feeling really fulfilled. Not quite satisfied -- since I'm like Hamilton in that regard -- but I feel great about the creative process.

Keep in mind, that might simply be because I sent a novel to my agent and it has yet to be accepted or rejected. That means I'm going to be in the Limbo Land of Infinite Possibilities. Perhaps, at least  temporarily, I've broken the cycle.

I did some journaling (surprise, surprise) and I discovered some new perspectives. I asked myself some great questions:

Should I try to be creative without any expectations? 

If I want an audience don't I need to have expectations? 

Is the cycle actually useful? Does disappointment, comparison, and uncertainty serve as a natural part of my writing process? (If so, then there's no problem; I just need to accept it!) 

For a little while, I thought: Just think of those negative emotions as the price you pay for working on creative projects. Think of it like exercise. Exercising sucks! It makes you feel exhausted. But it's also good for you.

But ultimately, as I continued to write in my journal, I decided that I don't need that cycle. In fact, I think I can experience more joy if I come up with a new cycle. So that's exactly what I did:

1) CREATE

2) RELEASE

3) CELEBRATE

4) EXPLORE

5) EXPERIMENT

6) CHOOSE

7) REPEAT

Nice verbs, right? Let me elaborate:

1) When I create, I'm making something for someone else. Or maybe I'm making something just for me. I probably want praise for it... but instead of desiring praise I should instead be thinking about the audience (even if that audience is just me). So I've posted three questions on my office wall:


Does it evoke laughter?

Does it spread joy?

Does it encourage empathy?

As a human being, I cherish those three emotional experiences: laughter, joy, and empathy.

That's my mission as an artist, to help foster those experiences within others.

If I am crafting something for someone else, it should probably do one of those things. And if I am having fun during the creative process, then I know I'm on the right track!


2) Release means to let the work go out into the world, and also to let go of expectations, to the best of my ability. I can't control what gets accepted or rejected. I can't control how others respond. But I can release the work. So, my mantra is: Submit, submit, submit (and submit to whatever fate the Universe decrees)

3) I need to celebrate more often. Acknowledge the victories, big and small. Share with others.Celebrate their work as well. Promote my projects with confidence, but know that others might not care as much as I do, and that's okay.

4) There are so many books still left to be read! So much music, film and art. I need to explore -- consume more good stuff. Recharge my batteries by falling in love with the creativity of others. Then, explore further -- really learn from the work of others; study their craft and see what new things I might want to try.

5) Exploration will then lead to experiments. Take chances. Make crap. Try new things. Fail. Try again. See what works and what doesn't. Feel free to stop and try something else... eventually, I will fall in love with a project and then  I will...

6) Choose the next work. In my case, it's usually a book. It's an idea so compelling I have to keep working on it to find out what happens.

My work might not be excellent -- but if there is happiness in the act of creation, and if it brings joy / laughter / empathy to at least one person (even if that one person is just me), then the endeavor is worth it. Insignificance vs. significance is subjective. So is excellence vs. mediocrity. I don't need to fear them. I just need to re-evaluate and re-define. FOMI, I have named you and I have tamed you!

Have you named your fears?



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