My first video ever was May 12, 2018. It’s excerpted from a sci-fi story I wrote. And about 4-minutes long. My son, Levi, and my brother, Brad, both creative people I trusted, told me it was awful and misguided. I used a synthetic robot voice for two voice talents, a male and a female character. Brad and Levi thought that was a terrible compromise. It was difficult to make because I didn’t know what I was doing. I jumped into the deep end.
Because of their negative reaction, it discouraged me so much, I didn’t make another video until May 1, 2019. A whole year of avoidance. That video was about a cryptic poem I wrote in 1990. I was about my childhood abuse and my parent’s secrets. That was 9 minutes long and had robot voice talent and my voiceover at the end. It didn’t matter if no one ever watched it. It was about healing and tapping into the subconscious mind.
I then did another video poem about a month later, “Don’t call me Dear.” Another old poem revived. Since then I made at least 1 video per week.
How did I do it?
I said, “I’m not going to produce beautiful poetry. I am going to produce one poor-quality, low-fidelity video every week. I’m going to embrace mediocrity. I won’t go back and edit after publication. I’m going to crank them out.”
And that is what I did.
Now they fall out of my head. The process becomes more and more transparent to me. My son, Levi, 21, now says some of my videos give him chills. My daughter Lilli, 37, says some make her cry. Good cry. Not, “Wow. That is painful” crying. But that isn’t the goal. The goal is to produce “one lo-fi video” per week.
Some ideas are so fragile at the beginning we should never share with anyone. They get killed by real or imagined criticism and disapproval.
It’s why I like the line from Dune:
“A beginning is a very delicate time.”
And this one: “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
It takes courage to move forward on inspiration – alone.
If you have a delicate unproven idea you believe in, never share it. Especially with people you trust. Why? because they’re the ones you’ve given the power to kill your idea with fear.
So many ideas die infant deaths because we shared them too soon looking for approval. You must act alone until demonstrating an idea’s merit. When personal witness convinces you; then what others think won’t matter.
It’s hard to do when we have an exciting vision of future potential. It takes discipline to remain quiet. In time, the idea’s shared because it’s no longer crazy or impossible or remote. We own it because we’ve done it.
I can’t share all my impossible ideas. Others have too much power to kill my idea immediately. Who gave you that power? I did. Your opinions matter. That is why dismissal hurts.
If God gives you an idea or inspiration, you don’t need to seek approbation. If you’re uncertain, ask Him again in another way that He can answer with a simple “yes.”
Doubt not, fear not.