DAY THIRTY SEVEN

Two days ago I wrote about the difficulties of finishing something. But what about the difficulties in getting started in the first place?
 
Fear of failure often features large in discussions of artistic or creative endeavour, as do ideas of perfectionism. We also hear of writer's block, people losing or not finding their muse, waiting for inspiration and so on. All these statements refer to the idea of people not being able, or at least fearing, getting started on something they want to do.
 
These kinds of discussions interest me because I have been a great prevaricator in life, in the sense of being indecisive, not a dissembler. Getting started is for me akin to firing up some ancient and rusty piece of machinery, or an aged sportsman who has to overcome the aches, pains and strains of old injuries at the start of each day. It all takes more time and effort than it really should and is far from simple. It wouldn't be so bad if it had ever been any different - had I once been a smooth and efficiently running machine or that past hurts and injuries now have to be overcome. Sadly this is not the case. Well, not sports injuries at any rate.
 
It has however always been the case that I have just two speeds when it comes to getting started - light speed, and glacial. I can start things instantaneously, spontaneously - as was the case with this blog - or I approach things incrementally, very slowly indeed with many false starts, millimetre by millimetre. If there is something I have to do, which is seldom the case when it comes to creativity, it can become even slower. 

It's curious that art and crafts practices are sometimes promoted on their ability to create a sense of flow, of apparently slowing time down; this is hardly something I need.

I've pondered the matter a great deal from time to time and have concluded that neither fear of failure or perfectionism are the primary reasons for my difficulties in getting started. Inertia plays the biggest part by far - it is generally easier not to do something than it is to do it. But beyond that there are questions of character or personality. In my case I have reluctantly concluded that I am first indecisive, and second, lazy. I would also like to say that I take on too much and have too many interests and so my indecision is in part to do with feeling overwhelmed or having too many choices and not enough time,  rather than what might be termed character 'flaws', (not that I describe them as such). There is some truth in in taking that approach, I do take on too much, I am interested in lots of things, and I often feel overwhelmed, but with Occam's razor firmly in hand, indecisive and lazy makes the case just as well.

But now to the point. 
 
It isn't whether one is indecisive, overwhelmed, whether you fear failure, have a million interests, wide ranging commitments or are a perfectionist - it's what you do about that situation which counts. Some people barge on regardless, some people set up strong routines, some - like me - do what they can when they can, sadly some people give up, but in all cases one needs to learn to work with whatever your perceived inability, flaw or blockage might happen to be. Everybody has at least one. 
 
I don't want to minimise the difficulty of doing this, of learning to live with that which you don't like in yourself or what you wish was other than it is. It is very difficult, and for some it is a never ending process, something they have to confront every day. For some it has nothing at all to do with their inner workings, but with very real-life everyday issues - health, wellbeing, income, housing, work, caring responsibilities and so on.
 
Faced with all this it feels somehow trite to say that for many people the production of art or making anything creative could plausibly be described as a process of overcoming problems and barriers, not least those one imposes on oneself. A case could also be made for saying that  confronting such barriers and difficulties may well be the wellspring that gives life to creative or artistic endeavours. In the final analysis this is what I think, I think. I'm not sure.
 
The risk and my hesitancy in saying any of this is that it may tend to reproduce the unhelpful trope of the tortured artist, or that art and creativity can only come from difficulty, and this is patently not the case. There are a gazillion happy artists and crafters out there. For the rest of us I would ask people to consider that difficulties and obstacles, where they exist, can and may legitimately also be seen as something postive, something you can learn to accept, live and work with and not something for which anyone needs to berate themselves or struggle to find excuses for.



Picture credit: Stephen Edmonds from Melbourne, Australia, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

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