Taking the Plunge
I don't know about the rest of all you creative types out there in Intarnetzland, but sometimes, there are moments when you feel like you're standing at a crossroads and the edge of a cliff at the same time. And it doesn't really matter what direction you choose, just so long as you PICK ONE.
I can tell you right now, my biggest problem is to quit looking at the options and make my choice. The roads are safer, the chasm beyond the cliff more exciting. Even when I know which I direction I want to follow MOST, something makes me stop and stare and get bug-eyed and overwhelmed at the spectrum of possibility before me. This, I believe, is the underlying cause of most of my guilt-inducing procrastination.
Perfectionism is one of those things that is both useful and a hindrance. It lets you aspire towards quality, thoroughness, completeness, the fulfillment of potential. But at the same time, it makes you picky, cautious, fearful of mistakes, even doubtful of your own abilities to live up to the impossibly high standards that you set for yourself, even when you're faced with concrete proof of your own growth. One of the things I've learned recently is that it's really hard to un-learn something, once you've crossed that stepping stone of experience. Now, more than ever, do I realize the value of practice, even of mindless repetition. You don't have to be a genius every time you set out to do something, just so long as you keep doing it. Even if you don't get it right the first five, ten, or fifty times, your body starts to learn even when your mind isn't trying. The lessons find their way to you somehow.
The value of determination after failure, I think, is far greater than that of immediate success. When I was younger, I was one of those kids who was good at...not everything, but a helluva lot of things, right from the first couple of tries. There were some things that, intellectually, I just -got- and I didn't have to study them diligently, or practice faithfully. Half-assed attempts could be enough to produce results impressive to those around me, and I was often told that I was talented. Of course, when I was a kid, there wasn't anything that I really -wanted- from my so-called talents. My skills in music enabled me to gain the respect of my peers, to gain confidence in front of a crowd, to give my parents something to be proud of. Artistically, I didn't bother with classes or training, I just did my thing and it was always enough for those around me, and since no one complained and everyone praised, it was good enough for me, too.
The sad thing was that, up until about three years ago, I hadn't ever really -TRIED- for anything in my life. And suddenly, when I found I wanted something, the amount of effort I was used to putting in wasn't enough. For the first time in my life, I felt like a failure, and being essentially unfamiliar with the sensation, I caved in beneath it, completely bewildered and lost. Looking back, it really was rather pathetic, that the girl that everyone said would be successful and stunning took one hit and fell apart completely.
But really, it was only a matter of time. I'm just glad I got my wake-up call then, instead of ten years down the road.
And now, speaking of roads and cliffs, I should probably get my ass off LJ and get back to work. I'm supposed to be taking the plunge this weekend; hopefully I'll be able to tell you all about the view next week.
I can tell you right now, my biggest problem is to quit looking at the options and make my choice. The roads are safer, the chasm beyond the cliff more exciting. Even when I know which I direction I want to follow MOST, something makes me stop and stare and get bug-eyed and overwhelmed at the spectrum of possibility before me. This, I believe, is the underlying cause of most of my guilt-inducing procrastination.
Perfectionism is one of those things that is both useful and a hindrance. It lets you aspire towards quality, thoroughness, completeness, the fulfillment of potential. But at the same time, it makes you picky, cautious, fearful of mistakes, even doubtful of your own abilities to live up to the impossibly high standards that you set for yourself, even when you're faced with concrete proof of your own growth. One of the things I've learned recently is that it's really hard to un-learn something, once you've crossed that stepping stone of experience. Now, more than ever, do I realize the value of practice, even of mindless repetition. You don't have to be a genius every time you set out to do something, just so long as you keep doing it. Even if you don't get it right the first five, ten, or fifty times, your body starts to learn even when your mind isn't trying. The lessons find their way to you somehow.
The value of determination after failure, I think, is far greater than that of immediate success. When I was younger, I was one of those kids who was good at...not everything, but a helluva lot of things, right from the first couple of tries. There were some things that, intellectually, I just -got- and I didn't have to study them diligently, or practice faithfully. Half-assed attempts could be enough to produce results impressive to those around me, and I was often told that I was talented. Of course, when I was a kid, there wasn't anything that I really -wanted- from my so-called talents. My skills in music enabled me to gain the respect of my peers, to gain confidence in front of a crowd, to give my parents something to be proud of. Artistically, I didn't bother with classes or training, I just did my thing and it was always enough for those around me, and since no one complained and everyone praised, it was good enough for me, too.
The sad thing was that, up until about three years ago, I hadn't ever really -TRIED- for anything in my life. And suddenly, when I found I wanted something, the amount of effort I was used to putting in wasn't enough. For the first time in my life, I felt like a failure, and being essentially unfamiliar with the sensation, I caved in beneath it, completely bewildered and lost. Looking back, it really was rather pathetic, that the girl that everyone said would be successful and stunning took one hit and fell apart completely.
But really, it was only a matter of time. I'm just glad I got my wake-up call then, instead of ten years down the road.
And now, speaking of roads and cliffs, I should probably get my ass off LJ and get back to work. I'm supposed to be taking the plunge this weekend; hopefully I'll be able to tell you all about the view next week.