The Fear of Not Knowing What You're Doing - Reframing Fear, Part 3
The main thing that has allowed humans to get by in what can be a harsh and unpredictable world is their ability to store and use knowledge. It’s no surprise then that people tend to care deeply about making sense of the world. The flip side of our reliance on knowledge and understanding is that we often feel uncomfortable when we are confused, are out of our depth, don’t have enough information, or feel like we might look stupid.
The mental discomfort associated with confusion has the benefit of discouraging us from venturing into areas where our lack of competence may get us into trouble. On the other hand, it can also keep us from exploring and learning. And although one can argue that many artists have a high tolerance for confusion and uncertainty, no one is immune to the negative consequences of these states of mind.
Creatives are constantly working in a state of uncertainty. We never know enough or have sufficient skills to do what we really want to be doing. We don’t fully understand when the magic of creativity will flow and lead to something we’re satisfied with. We rarely feel like we have it all figured out.
This uncertainty can paradoxically be both energizing and debilitating. Artists thrive on the process of exploration and figuring things out, but they also often harbor fear that they don’t know what they’re doing and that they will never be good enough.
But is fear the right framing for these feelings? Framed as fear, the solution is to tell yourself that yes, you are good enough! You do know what you are doing! Don’t worry about perfection! Now set aside your fears and get to work.
But if we reframe fear in this context as “mental discomfort from being confused,” we can draw from a broader and perhaps more productive set of responses.
Instead of asking, “How do I overcome my fear of not knowing enough?” you can ask:
How can I learn more?
How can I move ahead in spite of confusion, uncertainty and imperfect information?
How can I learn to live with the discomfort of not having all the answers?
These questions invite specific suggestions that are more substantive than the vague advice to set aside your fears. What can you do when you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing?
Learn More
Being confused, or even anticipating being confused, can be a mentally painful state that many people actively avoid. An obvious way to counteract the discomfort and paralysis that can result from confusion is to gather more information. Increase your knowledge and develop your skills in areas you feel need bolstering — do some research, take a class, talk to people, identify steps to take.
Make a start
Gathering information and developing skills are great, but you can’t wait to have all the answers because you probably never will. Time and time again, I have had trouble diving into studio work because I feel like I need to figure out what I’m doing first — what the new body of work is about, where I’m aiming with a new piece, where I’m going to show my work. Time and time again, I relearn the lesson that I can only really figure things out in the doing.
Courses, lessons, and research only take you so far — you actually have to start doing the work in order to figure out what you are doing.
Take a Small Step
Sometimes baby steps are a way of venturing into new territory without feeling overwhelmed. Breaking large projects down into small achievable steps give you a way in. Doing one small new thing can begin to push you in a new direction.
Trying things out in the form of small experiments can be a good way to take action when you don’t have all the information.
Take a Big Dive
Sometimes we might benefit more from a big push than a small step. My daughter started her swimming journey with more than a year of toddler swim classes that took a baby step approach, letting the child lead the process, and not pushing them past their level of comfort. By the end of the year, she hadn’t taken a single independent stroke and no water had touched her face.
The next summer, we went to the local swim teacher who took an encouraging but no-nonsense approach and started the lesson by more or less pushing my daughter into the pool. She wasn’t happy, but within two lessons, she was swimming independently.
The big dive (or push) isn’t always appropriate, of course. When we are in way over our heads, we just might drown or at best never get in the water again. In my daughter’s case, the actual risk was low (there was an assistant teacher waiting in the pool below) and there was continual reassurance and encouragement along with the tough love.
Small steps or big dive? It depends on the particular person and situation.
Reframe Discomfort as Learning
The area just past our comfort zone can be the richest environment for learning. Sitting comfortably in shallow water may be pleasant but it’s not the best place to learn to swim.
Discomfort is to learning as muscle soreness is to exercise. If you never push yourself to the point of soreness or fatigue during exercise, your fitness level will likely stagnate. Its when you put stress and tension on muscle fibers that your body adapts, changes, and strengthens.
Just like we talk about “good pain” in the context of fitness, we can think about the emotional pain of being out of our comfort zones as “good discomfort.”
Studies have shown that when people are asked to lean into or even invite discomfort and awkwardness, they learn more, experience greater personal growth, and are more willing to contemplate new information that doesn't align with their existing beliefs.
I know that the more I put myself in the middle of Spanish conversations in which I’m barely keeping up, the quicker my Spanish improves. This kind of discomfort isn’t necessarily fun, and it does take mental energy, but the results are satisfying. It is also something that gets easier with practice.
But take care and be self-aware of how much is too much. Just like the “bad pain” that comes from putting too much strain on muscles can lead to injury, going too far out of one’s comfort zone can cause some people to withdraw and shut down. If being too far out of your comfort zone is making you anxious, it’s probably time to back off.
But What If It’s Not Me That I’m Worried About?
Sometimes the source of our mental anguish is not ourselves but others.
What will others think of me or my work? What if I look stupid? What if they don’t like me?
These social “fears” — and how to reframe them — are the topic of my next post which will be the fourth and final installment of this discussion about reframing art and fear.