At some point in writing, and in everything, I face a choice: an idea is either going to become some sort of tangible reality, or I’m going to let it go and let someone else make it real. What keeps me, or anyone, from making an idea real? Fear, mostly, of making a mistake.
Carrying out ideas isn’t about NOT making mistakes; it’s ALL about mistakes. Take the first draft of a book; I go in knowing it’s all going to be revised. I mean all of it. It’s the same with my knitting and crochet projects—I just assume I’m going to have to rip out big parts of them, maybe the entire thing. I just did that with a sweater I’d spent hours on. Did I fall to my knees, tearing at my hair and shouting “Whyyyy??” Nope. I like the process. I like the doing. I like shaking hands with an idea and saying, “Let’s give this a go.”
These are the good kinds of mistakes. The ones that cause no harm (remember Ahimsa, non-harming, from Day 3 of Yoga Mind: Journey Beyond the Physical) to others, and don’t need to cause harm to us, if we see them as fertilizer for our creative gardens. I go into something expecting mistakes, and seeing them as a valuable part of whatever I’m creating, and I get to enjoy whatever I’m doing even more. I hope the same is true for you.