I get stuck a lot.
Recently I’ve been working on some additional offerings for my readers. Right now I have two primary ways that I help people find and clarify their work, calling, and passions: blog posts and one-on-one work. Those are two ends of a spectrum, with blog posts reaching many people in a small way and one-on-one sessions reaching a few people in a deep way. I’m working on a few projects to fill out the in-between.
While working on these new offerings, my energy fluctuates from excited and hopeful to discouraged and despairing. I get caught up and excited thinking about how much I can help someone, the impact I can have, and the potential for life change, and then I get really scared. Scared that what I make won’t deliver. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to be as helpful as I want to be. I’m scared of someone reading the book that I write and feeling let down or even led-on by faulty promises— promises I genuinely intend.
The intermingling of these hopes and fears is paralyzing and the swings from hopeful to hopeless are exhausting — as I try to temper my hope and rally out of my despair.
In my more sober moments, I have come to realize that both my hopes and fears will likely come true. Some people will be deeply moved and impacted by what I create. Others will be disappointed.
So I’m learning to let go.
I’m letting go of what the things I create may not become in order to discover what they actually will be. I’m learning to let go of the fear of disappointing some because I know, one way or another, that what I create will not connect with everyone.
If I don’t learn how to let go, I won’t ever finish.
I can’t release your work to the world until I let go of what the world will think of it. I can’t control that. Some people will get it and others won’t, no matter how hard I try.
So here’s to letting go. Here’s to finding kindness for yourself, your story, and your process. Here’s to making the things you need to make, regardless of how they will be received.