Jan 27, 2021
Feeling Like an Imposter
Accepting My Desire to Quit
I’ve been tempted to break the social contract to which I committed in my first post to continue posting at least once a week this year. If it had been a private commitment, then I might have quit but on day six since my last post, I am back at it.
I am learning the wisdom of Seth Godin’s admonishments in The Practice to “ship” creative work every single day, which he has done and has a streak of over 5,000 consecutive posts to his blog. By doing so, we change the narrative in our minds and force ourselves to create even when we do not feel creative, which paradoxically is when some of the best art is created. Because, in order to do something new, we almost always feel like an imposter. I can relate.
Establishing a daily writing practice
For years, I have been considering writing. The catalyst to finally begin and to stick with it for more than a few days was the intention-setting and integration work surrounding a psychedelic-assisted therapy session (aka a ceremony) that included daily journaling. I had tried journaling before but, due to the high stakes of getting the benefit of the journey, I finally found the external motivation to follow through. Even in a private journal, I felt like an imposter; as if, what I had to say was not even worth the effort to scribble it.
As my courage to challenge myself gradually waned, I was conscious of what a loss it would be to lose the gifts I had already attained from writing daily. My first instinct was to schedule another psychedelic session to force myself to recommit to the process, but Peter cautioned me not to rush into another journey and to sit with the anxious feelings to learn from them. He warned that chasing non-ordinary states of consciousness can be a way of escaping feelings we do not want to feel.
It became clear within weeks that I was resisting facing some challenging memories and feelings that came up during my ceremony. I also realized I was pulling back energetically from friends I admire who consistently have the courage to create like Chris Schembra, Grady, Maria Kreyn, and Fab 5 Freddy to name a handful. Rather than inspiring me, I felt intimidated and unworthy. However, I was lucky to have the support of Peter and friends who skillfully intervened to help me cultivate awareness and to hatch the plan for this blog.
Doubting myself from the outset
Initially, I felt a great sense of relief and flow when I started writing but doubts emerged quickly. I’ve worried about whether I have enough topics that are worth writing about. I’ve worried about whether I can build an audience and if that matters. I’ve worried about whether I appear weak by writing about things that I struggle with. I could go on and on since my internal voice has been very adept at fully exploring that space.
In the past few days, I noticed a shift that has helped me, which is that once I had started to identify with people like Chris, Grady, Maria and Fred then, rather than feeling intimidated, I was able to draw inspiration and encouragement from their courage. It’s been a gift to observe their commitment to “shipping creative work” to use Seth’s phrase.
Noticing my internal narratives
One more pre-requisite to renewing my effort today came into focus last night. I thought about my relationship to the feelings of being an imposter and my desire to quit. I had been fighting the feelings. My self-talk was deplorable and in a tone that I would never use with someone else. I was switching deftly between chiding myself about believing that my voice is valuable and then excoriating myself for being a coward.
Don’t worry. This is pretty normal for me and I have been doing it the entire time you have known me. Sadly, I am learning that it is common for us to mistreat ourselves in this way and to believe even that this talk somehow helps make us stronger, which I no longer believe. As my awareness grew of this internal dialogue, I was blessed with the presence to employ mindfulness tools. I decided to accept that I feel like an imposter and accept that I desire to quit.
It might sound like a trivial change but it’s the insight that precipitated me writing this. Rather than fighting to crush my fear, anxiety, and shame, I accept that those feelings exist and that they exist to protect me. I appreciate them, but I am also choosing to proceed with writing because it is important to me and hopefully to others.
Recommitting to the practice
I would love to believe that now I am cured and I can proceed with this healthier attitude toward these feelings but I trust that the feelings will seem overwhelming again and only through a daily practice of taking risks will I be able slowly to change the conversations I have with myself and create space for these conflicting and well-intentioned feelings.
Originally published at https://patrickbosworth.blog on January 27, 2021.
