Your $x (whatever your reason for it) is not some fragile vase that is going to shatter the second you $y. It is as strong as you decide it is, and the boundaries are where you set them.
I’m sure that this is obvious to other people, but it is not obvious to me: it’s okay if I’m not perfect. Really, it is. My writing is not some fragile vase that is going to shatter the second I split an infinitive.
It’s an interesting post — the way I read it, it’s about paralyzing yourself with the fear that you’re going to fail.
Here’s a post I wrote back in 2001.
Part of reason that I’m not more involved in ‘traditional’ creative writing is that I’m comfortable with what I’m doing already: I’m good at it. I’m starting to realize, though, that sometimes you need to do things you suck at.
Failing is the thing we fear, but failing the only way we change; it’s absolutely natural. School teaches us to fear failure — by extension, we learn to fear change.
I don’t know that I have a whole lot to add to those two quoted passaged, even after this much time has passed.
I’m working my way down the road one dangerously comfortable rest area at a time, trying to reach places I’ve never been before, doing things that, if you’d asked me five years ago, I would have been entirely unsure about.
Things that I will, without doubt, fail at the first time.
I hate that, but at the same time, it’s my favorite part.
The more new things we try — the more we step outside our comfort zone — the more inherently creative we become.