What happens when I can't choose

goauche on watercolor paper

All creative work depends on making choices, but for me like this week, choice can be a dangerous trigger.

It goes like this: I want to create—something, but I don’t know what. And because I enjoy many kinds of art and many kinds of media, I start to feel overwhelmed with options. And then, once overwhelmed, I suddenly find myself on the witness stand of my own mind being interrogated by my internal prosecutor.

“What will you make?”

“I don’t know!”

“You don’t know? Well, why not? You should know, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t you choose? Do you have an imagination problem…?”

I could stay stuck right here, trembling in self-doubt, but that would be really unproductive—and since this is not an unfamiliar pattern, I thought I’d share what I think this trigger actually is—and how to get out of it.

First and last: this is existential fear

I’m afraid. I’m afraid of making a choice—for a lot of reasons. That I might fail. That I might disappoint myself. I’m afraid that by doing one thing—choosing—I’m missing out on all the other art I could make—or maybe more accurately, the art I suspect I should make.

Because somewhere inside there’s a voice that tells me that there’s something I’m here to do— and I might make the wrong choice, one that doesn’t fulfill that mysterious sense of purpose I don’t really understand—and yes I’m also afraid that maybe I’m wrong. There is no purpose. Whatever I do might be pointless.

And here’s where the truth gets deep because…

What if I am in fact pointless?

And if so—why make choices at all?

Ooh, I know. I told you I was going deep.

But there you have it.

***

So when I fall into this choice-overwhelm-judgement cycle, what do I do about it?

Well, first, honestly, I have to talk myself off the stand. Bring in my own defense attorney sort of speak, who reminds me to say what I know to be true.

Yes, in the material world as we know it, who we are and what we do will be washed away by the tides of time. We are all seemingly grains of sand and we only have the present moment. That appears to be the Life and Death contract.

HOWEVER, given the Mystery and the immaterial world as we don’t understand it (Mystery being what I call the greater power of the universe, but choose your own noun if you prefer: God, Source, Universe)—none of us can tell the unpredictable impact we each have on others…which impacts others which impacts others…

One thing that is observationally true in life as we know it: The butterfly effect is real.

Who am I to predict the outcome of my work (or my life)?

I am not the one to know.

And that’s how I put my existential fear put to rest (this time, for this moment).

I remember what I know to be true about art—and life.

I don’t know much.

But I do know that I create because I need to create—and that has to be reason enough. I give everything else to the Mystery.

And finally, I do know one other thing about creativity.

When in doubt? Just start.

Start something. Anything!

“Just start” is the secret sauce: When you don’t know what to make, or how—or whether it matters if you do anyway—choose something very small—a color, a line—and begin.

And then, a funny thing happens every time. The fear recedes and curiosity takes hold. What is the next thing to do? And the next?

And pretty soon, I’m following my heart—the courtroom of my mind put to rest.

And this week it was a tailspin.

(Who am I to judge?)

Up--52 Cards Project #40

#40 of my 52 Cards Project

I had trouble finding a theme for this week for my 52 Cards Project. It has been a busy week, coming back from holiday and catching up on all the things. We also had two birthday celebrations and I’m also aware that I’ll be away for most of November and part of December so I’m beginning to prepare for that.

So anyway. What would be my theme for the week? I usually sit down and brainstorm for a bit, but for a while nothing really came to me—except I kept getting an image of a spiral staircase but I didn’t know why. That is, I had no meaning attached. In Chicago there was an amazing staircase at the Museum of Contemporary Art…

But that didn’t seem to be apropos.

Nothing else came to me, though, so I decided to trust my intuition and just go with it. I drew a spiral staircase…and then I realized that yes, the week did kind of feel like I was looking up from the bottom to the top and realizing I had a lot to go. Ahhh.

And that was my week.

***

P.S. I looked up the symbolism of a spiral staircase after the fact—and it seems my intuition may be trying to tell me even more. The spiral is an ancient symbol and geometric shape, of course. We find spirals in nature everywhere around us—shells, flowers, galaxies…and the spiral is in fact our very DNA. So as a symbol, the spiral is loaded with spiritual and esoteric meaning—but as far as for me right now? I think I’m just going to have to wait for more clarity.

Up is all I got.