#0026 Let’s Cut Down Those Weeds

Weeds from seeds, Mr Bother, practice the ART, and a little secret 🤫

When I made a list in January of ways to take the sting out of rejection, I wanted to tackle self-compassion and discomfort in tandem. That was the plan. (Yes, those giggles floating on the springtime breeze are some deities laughing at me.)

A month ago, I ended my post (#0022) with the line: 

Stop swinging that scythe at yourself; instead, start cutting down the weeds that keep you from a better creative life.

I’m finally getting back to that scythe metaphor.

With self-criticism, also known as the Inner Critic, we harm ourselves. Especially our creative potential. Wouldn’t it be great to redirect the energy of the Inner Critic to instead cut away the negativity that entangles us? Let’s give it a try.

Historically, farmers used sickle-shaped blades to handily (as in, by hand) chop away weeds. Because of its precision, the scythe granted farmers a way to reduce the unwanted from stealing nutrients and allow the crops they planted to flourish. 

But where did those weeds come from? Seeds. Sometimes seeds drifted on a breeze to land in the newly plowed landscape. Sometimes a bird poop-bombed that land with seeds (and soil enrichments). Sometimes seedlings were already in the soil. And sometimes garden gnomes* attacked the good work of the farmers. (*More on that later.)

A little help here?!? (Source: Photo by Jonny Caspari on Unsplash)

tangent

Nowadays, many people use nasty chemicals to kill weeds and birds (canary in the coal mine?) and bees (pesky! pollinators!) and plankton (freshwater biodiversity, anybody??), and, oh, people, while lining the pockets of giant corporations (that have personhood according to US law, which assists the corporations in avoiding liability). Monsanto bad. Use horticultural vinegar to zap weeds on a sunny day instead.

end tangent

When beginning a new creative project, I’m a jumble of excitement and nerves, of trepidation and joy. Even a good change can be, well, discombobulating. Instead of ignoring the cacophony of feelings or stalling instead of starting (say it with me now: “Awaiting the Muse”), I make a plan to face the discomfort of potential rejection.

As Beth Kurland, PhD, wrote in “How to Prepare Your Nervous System for New Goals” for Greater Good Science Center’s online magazine (#0018): 

We can make some space for [discomfort], lovingly put it in the back seat as we step into the driver’s seat, moving toward what is important to us. That discomfort may just be your nervous system trying to protect you from what it perceives as “threat.” Thank it for trying to protect you, and let it know that you can see a bigger picture, you’ve got this!

If a kernel, er, seed, of anxiety tries to inhibit me from diving into my new creative whatnot, I have a magically realistic way to deal. I fist-bump the discomfort hello, affix a name tag to their lapel (Mr Bother, Ms Utter, Mx Nonsense), and stuff them in the seed bank in the back of my car. In the garage. With the door to the house bolted.

Seeds of doubt and shame seem embedded in our brains. They crop up all the time. Especially when sharing our creative work. That’s why it’s important to make a plan to face the discomfort of rejection.

As we continue to practice self-compassion (#0022), we can root out our deeply held — and false — beliefs that whatever we write or draw or rhyme or perform will never be good.

To practice the ART of self-compassion:

Acknowledge the false beliefs.
Reframe them as background noise.
Treat yourself with kindness and encouragement.

Becoming more self-compassionate takes time. It isn’t easy. But the more you practice, the more you will reap the rewards. Over time the discomfort of rejection might diminish. Or at least not sneak up and surprise you (like a tiger in the jungle).

I’ll let you in on a little secret. Creativity is inherently a 👍 (thumbs-up). When we create, it helps make us more. We become better. There is no way that our creative self-expressions are not good. (The double negative is intentional. Math nerds know that two negatives make a positive. I use the no-not to emphatically emphasize how super-duper GOOD creativity is in all forms and fashions.)

Next time: More ways to cut down those weeds, including how to deal with bird poop-bombs and what to do when garden gnomes* attack