There’s always something to stop you from starting, continuing, finishing, and sending it out.

Fear is there. It’s always there.

I grew up hearing, ‘If you want to do it, you have to be the best at doing it.’

The Best or Not at All.

The pressure to be the best, or even just good, stops so many of us from starting at all.

Intuition says one thing. Logic says, ‘You’re unlikely to make it good enough.’

Never start means never fail. Simple as that.

Risk-averse people know that.

The risks:

Being disapproved of, disappointing others, being disagreed with, judged, mocked, ridiculed.

The world is a noisy place. There’s no guarantee of safety.

So don’t start. Stop wasting time. Let whatever you have to make sit in a drawer, safe within the walls of your home. Waiting. Forgotten. What’s the point anyway?

But what’s the worst that could happen if you continue?

Rejection, disappointment, or nothing at all?

Wasted time, emotions, energy.

Does the fact that no one says it’s worth something mean it’s worthless?

That might just be the worst of all.

So you don’t have to do it.

Can you stop making it?

If you can, then stop. But there might come a time in the future when it comes and knocks on your window again. Or you might just let it go.

If you can’t, you know what to do.

Forget about ‘the best’.

Forget about making it perfect.

Perfection is a lie. A devil disguised as a belief. It might lead you forward at first, but eventually it consumes you, until you’re left with nothing but bones and skin, pain in your blood, and a mouth dry with disgust for yourself and the world.

When you’re drawing a line, painting with colour, humming a melody, writing a word, finding a clue, or listening to the water boil while you cook.

How about the joy in that?

The accidental intention. The spark of the moment.

The joy in that?

The joy in making things. In doing as much as feels right. In letting go. In the delicate balancing of your life energy.

Not in self-torturing perfectionism.

Not in fear.

I try not to think about the end result when I work. But there always comes a point when I have to.

When I have to let it out into the world, where it can be seen, heard, judged, laughed at, ridiculed, appreciated, disapproved of, and heavens know what else.

Then I remember something else I learned in childhood:

‘Humans make plans and execute them. Heaven (God) decides the outcome.’

I’m only doing my part.

And I do it despite the fear.