Let’s Talk About Doubt
Doubt comes in waves. It masquerades as well-meaning things like intelligence, humility, "being realistic", chores, tidying-up and taking your time. It also hides in loathsome disguises like laziness, depression, loneliness, inadequacy and hurt. Why aren't you making your work? You've told yourself it's because you don't have what you need, or you will! just as soon as you know what to do. You've let yourself off the hook because the truth is you don't feel very well today. You'll feel better after you binge on netflix and clean out that drawer in the bathroom. Certainly you'll feel better then, and you'll have the blazing clarity and courage you need to press on with your work. I'm here to call bullsh*t on your excuses. But gently now. Gently. If anyone knows your pain, it is me. I have wasted entire years in a cess pool of worry and fear, all while nobly insisting it was for some other reason that I could be proud of or at least justify. When you aren't making your work, or when you stop in the middle of a piece, it is because you have doubts.
After ten years in the game, I've learned a thing or two about my own cycle of creation. When I'm working on a big commission, inevitably... EVERY TIME, without fail, I have a sincere moment of the most crippling doubt specific to the piece I'm working on. I become convinced that it will not work out and that I should probably at least start over completely, at worst, change careers and never attempt to paint again. This doubt is obviously ridiculous. Only once in ten years have I had to completely start over from scratch on a commission, (a week before the deadline no less). And never once has someone refused or returned a piece. This doubt is certainly unfounded, and yet, it is one of my most loyal companions. Luckily I'm now well acquainted with the moment she arrives and I can meet her with compassion and firm boundaries.
When doubt arrives - sometimes like a slow rolling storm you can see coming for miles, others like a tornado in the sun - I remind myself who she is, and that she doesn't get to decide what projects get finished and which ones don't. Doubt doesn't get to call the shots around here. I do. Doubt doesn't get to take from me everything I've built, learned, loved, in one violent swish of swirling mental chatter. Doubt must be taught it's place in the grand scheme of things. Thank your doubt for the way she tries to protect you, and then immediately and without added emotion, cast her aside.
My technique for battling doubt when it arises is this: Move as quickly through it as possible. Just because I'm well established in my career and my work, with a long list of deadlines and projects and clients, does not mean that I am now immune to doubt. She wreaks havoc in my life as soon as I let my guard down. She sneaks up on me while I'm cruising along thinking I've finally got this thing down. She shows up uninvited just when I need to impress a client, meet a deadline, or catch up on my productivity to keep up with my ideas. She's never invited to the party, and always makes an appearance. So, best to keep her away from the bar and escort her out before she gets too drunk... if you know what I mean. And for your own sanity, don't think you can let her in, give her a seat at the table, thinking you might learn something. Doubt is only there to rile you up. Move as quickly through doubt as you can. I find it helps to take note of when doubt has arrived. You say, ahhhh, this is doubt trying to keep me from doing my work. Noted. You say, "I'm onto you doubt. Keep walkin." And then, you press on with the task at hand. It's like going over a hill. Doubt lives at the very place where you are cruising, but you can't see over the hill. You can't see over the hill and your imagination says, anything could be over this hill: a tiger, a mud puddle, a drop into an infinite abyss. Doubt hangs out there and whispers into your ear that this idea is actually pretty bad, that you don't have any real friends. She's the devil on your shoulder hissing that all your best ideas are actually behind you, that you've been quite selfish to become an artist, that you are not improving and it's a slow crawl towards an empty death. Yes, sometimes she says all that. She whispers it into your ear, just when you can't see over the hill. When this happens, your mission is to just get over the damn hill. Cast your doubts aside, as many times as it takes. Don't bring emotion into it. That's how she gets you. She makes you think this is a real emotion you are having and you need to stop what you're doing and sit down and have a good cry. You don't need to have a cry. You need to cast doubt aside. And get over the hill. When you do crest the top of that hill, mountain, monster, you will see the beautiful landscape open up before you in all it's glory. This is when you can start to see the finished piece. You start to fall deeper in love with it because you got through something together. You've bonded. And you glance back over your shoulder with a sly grin, as you pity doubt for all her toxic interference. Once you're in the clear, you can't fathom that you almost gave up on your project because of doubt. You're bathed in the light of love for your work and reminded of the reason you create. I doubt this cycle will ever really go away, but if it does, I'll let you know. Best we can hope for is to master the cycle. Get over the hill. Bond with our work in the process, and meet it again each time, with the grin of a thief pulling off a heist in broad daylight.
Advice
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