Ok, day three of this project and I’m excited to finish up! Or at least I was until I opened the ‘clear’ coating and found out it was thick and gooey. However, I was determined to finish, so I dove in.
I was doing fine until I realized that at some point I had ripped a hole in my little foam ‘paintbrush’. Then I had to remember to use only one side so the little bits of bright blue foam didn’t get stuck to my project. To be honest, this whole project seems to have been designed to teach me about being patient.
I also found out the clear coating was soaking into the foam and had to squeeze the thick goo onto the cardboard I was using as a pallet. I cannot say enough that, for whatever reason, this was absolutely revolting. It was a soggy squishy mess I didn’t want to have to touch, but I had to pick out the little bits of blue foam to have enough of the clear coating to finish all nine magnets. It’s fine, I kept telling myself. There was nothing wrong with it. I would wash it off when I was done.
What I didn’t realize was that it was going to ooze under my nails and feel slimy. I cannot tell you how much I disliked that feeling. Oh no, wait…I can. It was loathsome. I have dark green polish on my nails right now for St Patrick’s Day so my nails were hard to clean completely because I couldn’t see where the glop had settled until I went to do something and it would squish out from under the nail. So yes, I found it extremely disconcerting. Which made me think about what it was that was actually bothering me. Was it the feeling of squishiness? Was it the frustration? Was it the loss of control? Oh, there it it. Loss of control. My biggest gremlin. I hate losing control of things as much as I hate gloopy stuff on my hands.
So what was going on was deeper than the gunk under my nails. Metaphorically and emotionally at least. What was it about this activity that made me want to chuck it rather than finish it? What was I trying so hard to control in a craft activity that I couldn’t handle the unpredictability of craft supplies? It wasn’t like I was putting together a laser targeted nuclear warhead and needed to get it right or else. They’re just magnets. Why was the idea of losing control of the process such a big deal? What was I afraid of?
And there it was. Fear. I realized I was afraid of failing. Obviously making magnets is a pretty low impact place to fail, but it wasn’t the importance of the outcome that mattered but rather the fact that failure was possible. Nobody was going to doubt my intelligence for not being able to perfectly reproduce a craft kit project, but somehow it felt like it, and I didn’t like that feeling. I hate those kitschy signs that say fear is False Evidence Appearing Real. If it were that easy, nobody would be afraid of anything. Fear is absolutely real. Sometimes the “I’m afraid of the serial killer” fear gets mixed up with the “I’m afraid of the dark” fear or the “I’m afraid of failing” fear or even the “I’m afraid of everyone laughing at me” fear but they are all valid ways of feeling given the current circumstances in your life.
Why, then, was I afraid of making bad looking magnets? That’s not exactly a survival level fear. Or is it? After I thought about it, I realized that what was under the fear of embarrassment was the fear that I’d be found wanting. That I’d be seen as incapable of something so simple because I was stupid, or klutzy, or inept. That I would somehow be judged for failing at something so simple because I wasn’t ok.
Well, wasn’t that a surprise…I was suddenly aware that making magnets, or doing anything creative really, was an open invitation for people to comment on my success or lack thereof. So now all I have to do is let the clear coating dry, hope it doesn’t streak, and try to figure out where this unreasonable fear of failing came from. Likely to be easier said than done, but if I can overcome the goopy mess issue, then I can probably do the same for the idea of being afraid of failing. At least I can try.
Wish me luck.
Duct Tape and Dreams 