At a friend's wedding reception years ago, I met a lovely, elderly woman who made her living as an artist. At some point during our conversation, she pointed out the self-made broach on her lapel. Before I had a chance to respond, she smiled in a way that let me know it was okay if I didn't like it. Which was a good thing, because I really didn't like it.
Then, with a twinkle in her eye, she let me in on a secret.
"Honey, there's a buyer for everything."
In her experience, even pieces she wasn't nuts about found their way into the hands of people who were. Knowing this helped her relax about the whole process. Instead of worrying about "will anybody like this", she focused on the act of creating and trusted that somewhere, someone would.
For four weeks, I have been
writing posting every day. I cannot count the number of little mantras of self doubt triggered by my cursor hovering over the “Publish” button.
Little thoughts like “Well, that wasn’t very interesting” or “That might not be so bad, after another 50 years of editing” seem determined to pull my pointer over to Solitaire.
But instead of turning to computer games for solace, I remember that conversation from years ago -- there’s a buyer for everything. Every day this month has been an exercise in letting go of wanting everyone to like everything I do and trusting that somewhere, someone will at least like this.
Thank you for reading.