I’ve been learning to swim for over 10 years as an adult. It’s probably been engrained in me since I realized that people can drown as a child. I’ve slipped into the deep end both then and as an adult, and that sheer sense of panic comes to me immediately when I know I’m in the deep end.

But this past weekend, I experienced for the first time that lack of fear.

I went the full length of the pool, watched the “safe border” slip away from me underneath, and went all the way to the other side. When I couldn’t tread water anymore, I saved myself by just continuing with my breast strokes to the wall. I dived into the pool and came up for air knowing confidently I could do this.

To experience the lack of something is perplexing to describe. It’s like the danger alarm switch in my brain turned off.

Cognitively, I know that the “fear” that comes up in many situations is really supposed to be a self-preservation method, but it also hinders me from being able to learn, to try new things, and to take on new challenges.

Fears of selling art

In announcing that I was first selling art, I was incredibly fearful that something would also go wrong. It wasn’t as visceral as the fear of drowning, but it was the fear of rejection of anyone that learned of what I was doing.

I feared that I would not be successful and would somehow be rejected by anyone who knew me. I worried I would mess up putting one of those dozens categories of product specifications into Etsy. I obsessed about people returning the art pieces they ordered, saying this was garbage and I should stop doing what I was doing.

In hindsight, it’s completely irrational.

Step by Step, Bird by Bird

What got me through the very first step of setting up my Etsy shop was when my now fiancé simply walked me through each and every category and made suggestions about what to put in. When we were done (10 minutes later) I braced myself and clicked “Submit” and it was all up there. Once I was done one, the next 20 were easier to do.

It’s like the danger alarm switch in my brain turned off.

This reminds me of the book “Bird by Bird”, by Anne Lamott, gifted to me by my friend Husein (who runs High Comedic Value). In the book, Lamott describes how a child is overwhelmed with a school assignment on birds. The dad that comes in to help coaches him through each step and says, “Bird by bird”.

It’s one small step at a time that leads to the whole.

When I was met not with rejection but a complete embrace and even support of friends and strangers buying my art, I realized that this too was okay. Red alert turned down to a low grade yellow light.

Art has an inherent relationship with fear

There’s something about art which is supposed to be invasive, intrusive and to not be liked by everyone. There’s some difference between the kind of art you see in Walmart, and the kind of art heralded in public galleries.

A case in point is Jean-Michel Basquiat. His style would have been considered as junk by someone. Yet his work is selling for millions. It’s also inspired thousands around the world to put out that weird but distinct art.

In that, it is almost that the fear of rejection is supposed to be there – otherwise you’re not putting yourself out there, or not being daring enough with progressing the artistic needle.

In bizarre contrast, the bits of “professional art training” that I pick up from time to time have been teaching me the rules of what people see in visual arts. I suppose knowing the rules can allow me to make the decision of whether or not to follow them.