Tiny signals traveling through the void of space

A reminder that self-doubt only wants to keep us safe

Photo by Jeremy Thomas on Unsplash

In all my years as a writer, one obstacle tends to rise and recede like the tide: self-doubt. It’s one of the most common afflictions to creativity, and I used to think it was some kind of deficiency, a flaw that might fade with time and experience. But I no longer believe it’s something to be stamped out. In fact, my recommendation nowadays is to keep this discomfort close.

Here are a few things I know to be true:

Self-doubt is familiar, easy.

Self-doubt keeps our words neatly hidden between notebook pages.

Self-doubt wants us to believe that no one cares.

Self-doubt makes us feel protected, because we’re less visible.

It’s the reflex of years of accumulated experiences when we said something that didn’t land, when we bared our soul and didn’t feel heard, when we asked for help but didn’t have our needs met.

We all experience imposter syndrome, wishing for confidence but recoiling into ourselves instead. Yet I’ve come to realize that at the core, these more difficult emotions and postures are actually protective. And this simple shift makes it a lot less scary.

When framed this way, self-doubt/resistance/fear, whatever you want to call it, only wants to keep us safe.

It belongs.

Like inclement weather ever-present on the horizon, we can’t blow it away, but when we welcome the rain or the storm or the blistering heat, it will eventually pass.

So, how can we gently approach these necessary pings and prods that feel like something we’d rather swat aside?

In Living Resistance, Kaitlin B. Curtice writes:

“Resistance always begins with curiosity, with questions. We often do not ask our questions, not because we’re afraid of the answer, but because there might not be a clear answer waiting, or because our communities have taught us that questions are a sign of weakness.”

The scientific term refers to a force (like friction) that “operates opposite the direction of motion of a boy and tends to prevent or slow down the body’s motion. It is a measure of the degree to which a substance impedes the flow of electric current induced by a voltage.”

In human lives, in human bodies, maybe this slowing down is a good thing. It lets us see what we couldn’t see before.

“Resistance cannot only be about what we are against. When we choose to resist something or someone, we are also choosing something else on the other side.”

As someone who often talks about (and tries to live out) curiosity, I love the reminder to ask questions. And in order to do that, it might mean a pause is required.

Whether it’s social media, listening to podcasts, or even reading, our brains need time without input. Go for a walk around the block with only your thoughts or drive without listening to music. Commit to being offline as much as possible for the next month—whatever feels doable. These small acts will always communicate to your subconscious that you’re open and available. In my own experience, that’s when I’ve found insights ready to emerge.

And on the subject of self-doubt in the form of questioning our ideas, a balm of hope from The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin:

“It is common for an artist to question the weight of their ideas. A five-year-long creative process might have begun with a fleeting moment in a dream of a remark overheard in a parking lot. In hindsight, this tiny seed that led us down a winding path may seem insignificant.

We might wonder if it’s big enough or if the direction is important enough to keep traveling. When gathering seeds to begin our work, we may be tempted to look for a grand sign before committing ourselves. A clap of thunder to assure us that we’ve found the right path. We may discard ideas that don’t seem of great importance or magnitude. But the size does not matter. Volume does not equal value. We can’t weigh Source material based on the initial impact it makes on arrival. Sometimes the smallest seed grows into the biggest tree. The most innocent ideas an lead to the most consequential writing. Trivial insights can open the doors to vast new worlds. The most delicate message could be of the greatest importance.

Even if the seed is nothing more than what we notice—a momentary perception, an unexpected thought, even the echo of a memory—it’s enough. Most of the, the hints of inspiration and direction from Source are small. They appear as tiny signals traveling through the void of space, quiet and subtle, like a whisper.”

Tiny signals traveling through the void of space. Don’t you love the idea of your creativity surging towards and through you in this nearly indescribable way? Inspiration being a small seed as opposed to a clap of thunder is something I’ve experienced in my own process, too.

So much of our writing is felt in whispers, and it’s the commitment to listening (a path paved open by our curiosity and bravery to meet the self-doubt/resistance/imposter syndrome in the first place), that makes it possible to hear “the most delicate message.” It’s a lifelong practice, I’m afraid, and one we can barely scratch the surface of in a single newsletter.

One final (and practical) suggestion is this: consider making a “love notes” folder on your computer or in Instagram. If a reader says something kind about your work, or you receive a positive response to your query or submission, file it away to look at on a rainy day.

Until next time,
Nicole

📚 Reading

—What I saw when I came back to the internet 3 years later.

—The way we live in the U.S. isn’t normal.

—A memory researcher explains how to make precious moments last.

—Currently in the middle of Goldenseal (two old friends confront a betrayal) and Kitchens of the Great Midwest (a woman becomes the iconic chef behind the country's most coveted dinner reservation).

🎧 Listening

—The tyranny of urgency.

—What our rage is telling us.

—Life as the sum of all things we’ve paid attention to.

—Recommended archive episode for this time of year: The Necessity of Winter.

🍳 Eating & Enjoying

—This caffeine-free chai mix with frothed almond milk.

—I love a sheet pan dinner, and recently made oven-roasted chicken shawarma served with white rice, toasted pita bread, and a garlicky yogurt-tahini drizzle.

—Made gluten-free peanut butter cookies over the weekend and they were a hit! (I used the Cup4Cup all-purpose mix.)