Overcoming the Mind Killer
With wrenching clarity, I realized last night why I don't write. I make up excuses without realizing I'm making up excuses, feeling too tired or unmotivated or this or that, it's always something. Why? I am afraid. No, I am kind of terrified.
I am terrified of failing, of not living up to the imaginary expectations I've assigned to those around me, of not living up to the expectations I have for myself. And in that fear, with those false and irrelevant assignments, I have set limits on my own potential. Not just with regard to writing, either, in so many other areas of my life as well. I don't know precisely when I put those chains in place, but I have reached an apex of crippling height that I have no choice but to overcome (the alternative is to let those limits lie and exist always in the drudgery and frustration of something that cannot really be considered living, and that's not much of a choice, is it?).
Bill Shakespeare (calling the most influential writer in the English language "Bill" or "Billy" is a good way of bringing him down a notch) nailed it, Billy did, when he wrote, "Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt" (Measure for Measure, 1.4 for those who care to know). Luckily I have people in my life to help make me strong, to help move me through the doubts that complicate my mind (and yes, I did just practically quote Pat Benatar. Shit's real, bitches). Having even just one someone who believes in you, one someone who recognizes your worth and potential, is invaluable to the process of overcoming the fear and fighting down the "No." Even so, their power can only get you so far; you have to ingest that belief and let it invade you. I know this. The knowing is easy, the doing is the challenge.
The peculiar thing about my fear is this: I often feel confident in my abilities, where I lack confidence is in the showing of them. If that sounds bizarre or doesn't seem to make sense to you, that is because it does not make sense, at all. I don't know what it is, either, that overcomes me, but it is something that stops me from doing the things I want to do, a feeling of restraint and a reverberating "No" that rattles my skull and leaves me frozen in my tracks. The stories I weave around the experience all serve the purpose of No, every condition I make up and fool myself into believing feeds the beast, and hinders my ability to (split infinitive alert) openly approach things with the confidence of a normal human being.
Perhaps it has something to do with my lack of exhibitionist qualities or a deep-set humility that fills my bones, or maybe just a complete lack of confidence in my self.
Whatever it is, it is something I am fighting, something I must keep fighting. When the words of the Bard fail me and I grow sick of visions of pixie-haired '80s vixens dancing in broad-shouldered white suits, I remember this:
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
(Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear, Dune, Frank Herbert)
It gives me strength in the the battle against my head-demons, No's relentless minions, not to mention ultimate nerd cred. And the more I think about it all, about No, and fear, and the joys, failures, lessons, and successes I am missing out on because of them, because of silly constructs of my very own brain, the sillier and more absurd it seems to keep abiding by fear. So from now on, I refuse to let fear dictate my actions (unless a spider is involved, in which case, I will probably scream and hide in a distant place until someone goes in and eliminates all traces of its existence).