Do the Thing. Then Put the Thing Out There.

Doing the thing is hard. It’s scary. For a start, it’s work, and for a lifetime procrastinator like me that is not a big motivational drawcard. Even if you do put in the effort and do the thing, that can be worse, because there is always that huge risk that you’ll fail. Doing the thing is one big tiresome, anxiety-inducing ball of uncertainty and low-quality beginnings, and there is just so much to deter you from it. If you can get that ball rolling though, it might completely change everything. Even if it doesn’t, it’ll get you out of your black hole of Netflix-nachos.

I am a master procrastinator. To the extent that I have only just this morning watched a TED talk about procrastination that my sister has been telling me to watch for months. It’s a serious problem, but this year I have started to push myself to do the thing. The scary things. The things that I’ve always thought I’d love to do at some point in the general future. It has been a huge change, and I think I know what has set that ball rolling for me: surrounding myself with people who are doing things, and similar things to the things that I want to be doing (‘thing’ is beginning to no longer sound like a word). These people have inspired me, and sometimes directly pushed me, into getting my butt out of “I’d love to do that”-land and into “I’m doing this”-town.

In January this year, I started studying improvisation at The Improv Conspiracy. A fun bout of anxiety meant that it took a trial sign-up round before I actually made it to the class the second time I put my name down. That first improv class has changed so much for me. It has delivered me into a community of people who make me feel like I have a place in the world. I am constantly surrounded by people who are making things that are hilarious and beautiful and make me want to make things too. Both the performing of the improv, and the people I do it with, have replaced a lot (not all) of my fear of trying things, with excitement about actually using the creative bone that I’m sure is in me. I have started writing poetry. I have started writing lyrics and making music. I have started my acting training. I have spent a ridiculous number of hours this year making things up on the spot in front of an audience, with people I’d never met a year ago. It’s felt pretty damn good.

After you’ve made yourself a resident of “I’m doing this”-town though, there is an even scarier challenge: moving half your furniture and belongings to “I’m putting my stuff out into the world”-ville. You’ve started doing the thing. But now it’s all hiding in the depths of your computer or bedroom, only venturing out when you choose to pass it carefully to trusted confidants. Putting your stuff out there is risky: you leave yourself open to criticism and rejection, even ridicule. But I’ve decided to challenge myself to try this new thing called ‘backing my own work’. For someone who has let a lack of supply in confidence hold her back for way too many years, this is a big step.

So that is this site. It is me backing my own work. Putting it out there. This is the most important part. Why else do we make things, if not because we want to put them out into the world?

So step a foot out of “I’d love to do that”-land. I get it, I’m still a partial resident. But I’d love to meet you for a coffee in “I’m doing this”-town. It’ll be my shout, and I’ll make sure to bring a healthy supply of hugs and encouragement.

See ya there.