What Have You Done?

So, as I climb my way slowly out of the "deadline" hole that I've dug for myself, as I gradually hack at these writing assignments that I've over-committed myself to, I am struck by the fact that I still believe, on some level, that how "well" I do this bunch of writing will determine my fate. If I write "brilliantly" all will be well, if I write "badly" I will never work again and never, ever have anyone love me ever again. And it's not that I actually "think" this. My mind tells me that this is silly and irrational and "dramatic", but my body feels it. The pressure while I'm writing I can actually feel on my shoulders, my forehead, my hands even. And, definitely, my heart. It's that pulsating, rancid death-grab of the feeling of "what if I'm not good enough?" Now, I've been around long enough to know that's a bunch of malarkey and I just have to sit down and write and it will come, the good story, the fun idea, the clever character, the great dialogue. And even if the bad plot or stupid dialogue comes instead, it's always an indication that something else has gone awry with the piece, which can be fixed if I just can find where I went astray. Because I really do believe that it's my job to show up and get out of the way and be a "channel" for the creative force in the universe. But I still fear that dreaded rejection, that dreaded look in someone's eyes when I can tell that it's just "okay", or that horrid comment of "it's a good beginning". To which I want to respond: "Beginning? Are you kidding? It's PERFECT RIGHT NOW!!!!" But someone recently pointed out to me that the fear is actually unwarranted. Because, if indeed I am just a "channel" for the creative energy, for God's work, then whatever work I produce, it follows that it's not MY work. It's God's work. So, technically, it's not my ass that's out there, that people are judging. It's God's ass. And for some reason? That really, really, really makes things easier.