Getting past fear

This is my new sock monkey. He has nothing to do with my post today; I just think we could all use a cute, baby sock monkey sometimes.

I’m moving a little slow this morning. My arms and legs are aching, I’m still nursing a pulled shoulder muscle. And my abs are reminding me that I should probably make it to workout class more often.

So why am I whining aching today? I had a step test over the weekend. In taekwondo, you take a series of mini tests as you prepare for your next black belt degree. This wasn’t my first test (not even close), but I still went through the same freak out process: feeling confident until the date the test application was due. A bundle of nerves the week before and downright panic on the day of the test. “What am I doing? I can’t do this?! I’m not good enough! I’ll never be good enough!” 

Sound familiar?

I don’t know about you, but I go through the same thing before I start a new writing project. That shiny new idea seems so wonderful. It’s going to be the best story EVER. But then I start panicking as I begin committing words to paper. Half way through, my confidence has caught the midnight train to Georgia and left me wondering “What am I doing? I’ll never be good enough to pull this off!” 

Pushing through fear is a big part of writing a book. It takes nerves of steel. You gotta look that opponent - you know, the one in the mirror - and let him or her know you’re doing this, no matter what. And you’ve got to trust your training (all those words you’ve already written and all those conferences you’ve attended or critiques you’ve asked for). And you need to trust your instincts - that little voice telling you that you *can* do this, that you are meant to do this. 

When you’re done, you might be aching and you might have pulled a muscle or two, but I bet you’ve also done a few things well and discovered one or two things you still need to work on. 

And you’ll be another step closer to your goal. 

  

Taking our time to get there

The other day at taekwondo*, we were working on forward rolls. The class was a mix of kids and adults and various levels of black belts. Now, I used to have a pretty decent forward roll but for some reason, I’ve lost my mojo lately. It happens sometimes. You have some kind of brain freeze or blip - or lose your confidence - and you suddenly can’t do something that only a short time ago, you were pulling off. It’s not unlike getting writer’s block.

While waiting for my turn to demonstrate my roll for the instructor, I made a comment (okay fine, I whined like a baby) to a nearby friend that I was the only adult in the room who had a “loser roll.” Without missing a beat, she pointed out that I was also the only adult in the room who didn’t take hapkido (another martial art that focuses on joint manipulation and throwing/falling techniques.) In other words, even though I felt like I should be so much better, I was probably not too far off from right where I should be.

I feel this way about writing sometimes, too.

I look around at other writers and think I should be much further along by now. I let myself get down about any number of things: the speed at which I write, the fact what I want to quiet books when quiet books aren’t selling, the number of friends who’ve landed book deals when all I’ve been collecting is rejections from editors. (Super kind rejections, but rejections nonetheless.)
But the thing is, I’m probably not far off from right where I should be.

Maybe other writers put in more hours, are simply more talented, are blessed with a speedy pen, have better luck or ideas that are hot at the moment. But that’s okay. As I’ve learned over the last (almost) seven years of taekwondo training, this is not a race.

We’ll all get there. Eventually. We just gotta keep showing up and practicing. And, oh, remembering to tuck our heads to the side when we roll. :-)

*I seem to start a lot of my posts off this way, don’t I? :-)