PS. I like you is a newsletter for creative humans with self-doubt. Expect questions (and occasional answers) for living a creative and fulfilling life. Sign up to have it sent directly to your inbox.
I started this letter with a sip of gin.
I hadn't intended to start writing at all. (In fact, I had intended to cook dinner...)
But then I took a sip of gin. And because I am so extremely easily affected by alcohol (it's a condition; see here) I couldn't help but get a little... buzz.
This little buzz told me I should write a newsletter. (Okay, I told me I should write a newsletter.)
So, here we are. Note: I wrote the rest of this letter sober.
The joys of starting are many—when you are feeling confident, curious, or just simply not too caught up in yourself.
Otherwise it can be a chore.
Starting can be massive.
It can be painful.
And the reward is that at some point you'll stop. So you'll have to get started all over again.
That said, here are some of my current best strategies for starting. (Note, the term strategy here is applied loosely.)
1) Know you're not going to make your best work.
Don't even try… to be good. Just settle for 'starting.'
2) Play with a thought or feeling that makes you want to start.
This could be open. It could be I wonder. It could be you know, here I am, doing my best. And today, my best is enough.
Notice that all these sentiments are kind or at least neutral. No self-criticism is involved. No harshness, no judgements. In fact, the opposite of judgement — go with that.
3) Once you have the feeling, know you're going to drop it. Often.
That's okay; that's part of the creative process. We lose a feeling, we pick it up again. Our focus drifts, our mind doesn't stay in one place. (Ohh, wouldn't it be wonderful it it did! But then, we'd probably not notice the saber-toothed tiger behind us, and end up dead.)
4) So accept there will be a lot of mini-starts. Each time, you come back. (Like meditation, but with crayons.)
This also applies to when you are taking in your 'big overall vision' and feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of the task. Take a look (if you need to check you're still on track with where you want to go), but come back.
Most of your time should be on the here and now. The next doable step. (Like, pick up paintbrush; write next sentence; open editing software, etc.)
5) And accept that you will suck at this.
That is, until you get better. With practice.
6) Know that you're a human being, learning a skill. And learning a skill takes time and patience.
And practice. And practice.
It's also helpful if you are kind to yourself but accountable. Meaning, you make yourself do it, but you don't cause any criminal damage to yourself in the process.
7) Turn off your phone. Or put it on Do Not Disturb.
And don't take yourself too seriously.
Love,
Kathryn
A few questions to play about with:
What does the most powerful version of you do?
Why are you waiting?
What is something kind you can say to yourself? (Please say it very nicely and sincerely to yourself, now.)
PS. Starting is hard. (So is keeping going.) Do not expect to be perfect—or even proficient—in this. If you would like help; taking action, staying the course, and finding direction, book a call with me today and find out if conversations with a coach might be a good option for you.