Permission to Fail
There was no way I could write that article — no chance, no way, no how.
I sat at my computer desk, utterly convinced that my writing career was over. Time constraints, fatigue, stress, the sniffles, and lack of familiarity with the subject matter had all conspired to dry my brain into an empty husk. I had absolutely nothing left to offer. Writing the article was simply not possible.
I then proceeded to write a very good article, finishing ahead of schedule.
What happened? What magical incantation or secret Eastern mental technique did I employ to go from zero to sixty creatively? The truth is, I didn’t really do much of anything. I just started writing, having despaired of producing anything good or even competent. I just sort of doodled, and a finished article emerged.
But maybe “just doodling” is the key, not only to overcoming writer’s block, but to conquering procrastination in general. I’m convinced, first of all, that writer’s block does exist, though some very prolific writers continue to deny this (mainly on the grounds that they’ve never had it). I’ve experienced many bleak hours of sitting at a keyboard with absolutely no way to start, or continue, or finish, and countless other creative professionals out there know exactly what I mean. It’s just a particular form of procrastination, which in turn is a reaction to anxiety. We dread applying ourselves and seeing less-than-good results, because the perceived reward doesn’t equal the perceived effort. Perfectionists suffer when they produce imperfection.
So what can we do? We can give ourselves permission to fail. We can give up and say, “Well, whatever. I’m scheduled to write, so I’ll just scribble some notes and maybe some of it will be useful later on.” That’s pretty much what I did on the article. I knew I couldn’t write so I settled for “putting a few thoughts down,” and before I knew it, those few thoughts had transformed themselves into a finished, ready-to-print piece of writing. I stopped caring about perfection for a moment, and in doing so I deactivated my inner critic — which freed me to just write, instead of writing and editing simultaneously. You can’t edit what hasn’t been written yet, not without putting yourself into a feedback loop of inactivity.
So my suggestion is, the next time you don’t know what to do or how to do it — do SOMETHING. Screw it up and fix it later. Give yourself permission to fail. You might surprise yourself.
