Believe in yourself (a challenge and a call to arms for struggling creatives)

Dear creative community, dear everyone,

Believe in yourself. We need each and every one of you. Yes, you.

Whatever obstacle you face, real or imagined, is there to challenge you. The challenge is there because the reality is you're ready to face it. That doesn't mean it's going to be easy. It might be difficult AF.

You—yes, you—are bigger than that challenge, that obstacle.

You hold within yourself many possibilities, many choices, many opportunities to see things from a different perspective.

But sometimes, what you feel comes nowhere close to that reality.

Sometimes it just feels like all too much.

Sometimes you may feel like you're backed in a corner.

One day, in the dead of night, you might feel the most extraordinary depths of dread, or fear, or helplessness.

You might have felt that a bunch of times this year, oh my God.

Asheville has lost an incredible talent this week. He didn't know me, I don't think, but I was first aware of him at a fashion photography event three years ago. I brought my little Nikon D90 and he brought an entourage of strobes and umbrellas and at least one assistant. Someone to aspire to. Later, he cohosted a YouTube channel, which discussed local photography and gave him another opportunity to display his humor. They took audience questions, and before that channel died after three or so episodes, they took my question. How do you make money as a photographer???

It turns out, I'm now learning, that was something he had also struggled with.

We creatives somehow take on this belief, the starving artist, as a burden, a necessary evil.

No wonder the suffering when creatives pitch themselves into the wilds of entrepreneurship.

It doesn't have to be that way.

Believe in yourself. It's not a trendy phrase. Remember who you are, deep down. Despite the vicissitudes in life. Despite the heartache, the unexpected, the drama, the parts of life you cannot control. Remember your core being. Stay true to that inner you, the one who knows. All the world's a stage, including what you think is you.

I don't take this lightly. This is something I had to re-remember this year.

For years, I never understood why anyone would choose to end their life. Then, one December a few years ago, I came to have a greater appreciation. I felt that unfathomable presence. The darkness. The pain. It knocked on the door of my awareness as a simple thought, an ideation, a whisper a villain says in a movie. And before I could understand what was happening, it barged into my life, my body, and grabbed hold of my chest and didn't let go. I was completely shocked and didn't know where the heck this came from. I am grateful I had the wherewithal then to rely on tools I had learned long ago.

(Among them: A former boss, on the day he departed the company, recommended among a list of books "A New Earth" by Eckhart Tolle, who described the day he wanted to end it all, when in his last moments he had an etymological revelation that saved him: He heard himself say "I want to kill myself" and wondered who was the "I" that wanted to kill him. He then recognized and observed the disparate parts of himself that were at odds.)

Remembering this, remembering I was separate from the energetic chokehold on my heart, I was able to observe. And feel deep, dark feelings I didn't know I had. I didn't sweep them under the rug—although, maybe I did in a way, as I never shared this with anyone until now. But I was intrigued by this new weather system rolling through the inside of my chest. Intrigued—but debilitated. I hurt. It hurt. I never before imagined the hurt I was feeling. And somehow I knew, somehow I remembered, to welcome it. It dug in deep, the internal critic at its worst. It tore my heart out and made me look at it. It felt more than I could handle. I weeped. I surrendered. I listened. It was completely senseless, illogical, and therefore full, raw, unadulterated emotion. I remembered, despite how desperate this feeling was, that I, my core self, was beyond its scope. I was more than this. I held on. After a few days, maybe weeks, it left.

But just as a storm front passes, traces of it remain. It is a part of you and always was and always will be. It washes away the old, and another layer of you emerges and grows and battles (and sways with) the winds again.

Whichever path you choose, remember to stay true to you. As one creative entrepreneur has put it, the obstacle is the way. Go forth and create, and believe in your worth. Listen to the darkness, if it appears. But trust and believe in the light and love that is you.