September 3, 2014
I have a confession to make...
And since this whole blog is called "Daily Confessions of a Christian Woman" - I guess I figured this was as good place as any to confess...
... Or maybe this is my way of fighting back.
My confession is this: I am mortally afraid of failing.
In fact, this might be my biggest fear ever.
At least... it is the fear that I feel I have to face most often and most definitely - the fear that defeats me the most.
It keeps me from a lot of things (like writing) pretty much everyday - because I am mortally afraid that I will fail at writing... because I have no idea what I am going to write... because I have no idea what I am going to do with my life other than write... and I am mortally afraid of failing (most of all) at my life.
There's a lot of other convenient excuses that go along with that (not writing - that is) - the main one being "but I never have time" - because a lot of times the moments when I have the ideas of things to write - it's when I can make convenient excuses like: but what will I write on? (Trust me - I have tried notebooks and minibooks and all sorts of journals and small notepads and any number of paper and pen combinations and they all fail) or - "but I'm in the middle of something else."
Or, as was the case tonight, I should (or have) already climbed into bed - and really - sleep is "necessary" isn't it? For basic life-functioning... like getting up and being productive at a job that actually makes you money.
What really drove me from that cozy spot tonight was the thought that I guess a lot of artists learn to sacrifice sleep to their art...
... or else I'm not quite sure how they do it...
... so I might as well give it a try tonight.
Or maybe it's just that ideas sound so much better when you're half drugged on sleep and it's easier to find the courage to blurt them out and blame them on sleep-deprived brain the next morning...
Maybe it's because in the softer light of night - even the ugliest and clunkiest things take on a beauty and mystery of their own...
... because usually by the next morning it looks a lot less glamorous.
... Things like starting a poorly written blog post about how I'm mortally afraid of failing (especially at writing) ...
And look -
I know it's not just me. I've talked to a lot of other people who follow their passion - whether writing or painting or sculpting or even building their own business or following their dream - and there are a good number of us (not all - some find that blank space, that blank canvas, that unformed lump of clay - that open possibility - exhilarating - tantalizing - exciting - maybe even normal or mundane) - but there are ENOUGH of us - enough so that I don't feel like a complete and total freak (just a little one) - that find that endless expanse of white absolutely terrifying.
So terrifying - that I will (and do) come up with pretty much every excuse not to face it.
Even though that means that I then end up facing my worse fear of all: failure at my life.
Because I've tried a lot of things - honestly - things that I like - things that I even think I could be good at - things like swing dancing, and making pottery, and teaching -- things that I could even arguably see myself becoming much better at than writing if I were willing to put my back into it...
... and the thought of pursuing any of those things for my life sounds nice - but somehow I can't muster up the passion to really truly pursue them to the point of greatness... and I can't tell if it's because I can't muster up enough courage to actually face the fear of failing at any of them... or if it's because they just don't compel me the way writing does.
... the way where it feels like if I don't do this - if I don't write - then I will have failed at my life.
I mean - not doing any of the above would be mini-failures - small deaths - "mini-strokes" so to speak to my life - one alone may not undo me, but not doing several of them could be really seriously deathly to my soul...
... but somehow the thought that at the end of my life I might die without having written a book because I failed at it somehow -
THAT makes me cry.
And yet that fear of failing at it is exactly what makes it so hard for me to write.
And it isn't that it needs to be a book read by anyone, or published, or even a book that anyone but myself cares two cents about it (although all those things would be nice - and if I'm honest - I crave and would crave those things) ... It's just a "book" in the sense - a collection of writing that I can look at and say: "Yes... I did what I was meant to do with this life."
A lot of people reading this (or would - if there were a lot of people reading this) are probably thinking: "Maybe if you would lighten up a little on yourself - you wouldn't be so afraid - and then writing that book would be so much easier"
And it sounds like a pretty simply solution right?
Because really - it's ridiculous to wrap your whole life's worth up into something that may not actually happen... in fact - that could be a very dangerous way of living period.
So what if you don't write a book. Really, there are worse things you could do in life... a lot worse...
So what if you have a happy life - and are a good wife - and a good mom - and even a great teacher/swing dancer/potter/(fill in the blank with something else that I'm missing?) - why ISN'T that enough?
Haven't you been saying to yourself - and everyone else - this whole time that BEING - simply existing is what matters?
That's your whole Cartesian argument right?
"I exist, therefore my existence matters."
... so why the existential crisis?
Your whole argument of faith is that because you believe in Christ - because you believe in a God who loves you - because that love is what defines your identity - that you should not fear... not even failure of living/fulfilling your life.
So then - why afraid?
Why so downcast, oh my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God - for I will yet praise Him
My redeemer and my God
And get this - it's not that I'm afraid that I will fail Him.
Or even that I will fail myself.
More that I will fail.
Just absolutely.
If I don't write.
Maybe a part of it is that it doesn't matter to Him whether I fail or not.
I mean, I couldn't fail any worse than we all (collectively and individually) already have failed to Him... and it didn't change anything for Him then, doesn't change anything for Him now.
So whether I succeed or not doesn't change His love for me.
And that (hypothetically) gives me courage...
and (truly) gives me encouragement...
... but it doesn't mean that I don't still have to face that fear of failure anyways.
Maybe this is what people miss about the Christian faith...
and I say miss because I don't think we're really honest about these things...
It isn't that those struggles that you face - those huge obstacles that you'd really rather turn-about-tuck-tail and run away from - it's not like they just disappear.
It's not like you no longer walk in the valley of the shadow of death -
It's that you still face them... those struggles, those dark times, those valleys, those mountainous obstacles... maybe even more than if you DID run because:
It's just okay if you fail at them...
... And yet you're expected to go at them anyways - 100% - because like I said... Your whole eternal life's worth isn't tied up in whether you succeed at them or not - which sounds great, except that leaves you no excuse not to try. If any man would follow me - he must pick up his cross daily...
We have nothing to fear but fear itself...
It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well have not lived at all - in which case, you fail by default.
I love those quotes... not really because they set me free from my fear of failure like "oh! I have nothing to worry about now - let's go for it!"
... But because I feel like they were spoken by people who really deeply understood the fear of failure... and weren't saying "GO AND TRY" as though it were some light undertaking - like all you had to do was just try hard to succeed - but because they understood the struggle of facing those fears... and because they only reached the points they did - where they said what they could say - because they had practiced the art/battle of facing that fear...
being defeated by it...
failing by fault or default...
and getting up the next day to face it again.
So maybe this is just me fighting back.
In the wee hours of the morning when the cool side of my pillow is beckoning me - and tomorrow will be a longer day because of less sleep - and I am already terrified to go back and have to re-read this - and it would be easier - so much easier not to have even gotten up to try.
But I'm glad I did... because at least today I can say "Well... I've gotten this far... might as well post it up."
And even if the current tally of the day is 1,918,919,184,002,182: Fear and 2: Whitney
(I count getting out of bed a victory on some days)
At least it is 2... and not 0 today.
Does it ever get any easier?
Maybe not... maybe you just build an ability to keep at it...
Or maybe it is just this hard all the time.
All I know is that I need to do this more often.
... Not because I fear failing at my existence... but because I fear failing at really living my life.
Or maybe - if I thought of it more positively...
Not because I fear failing at my existence... but because I love life too much to let it pass me by.
At any rate... I am done for now.
Sleep calls and this time - I'm caving.
Love,
Whitney
