In this episode, we explore the challenges that are implicit in facing a ‘blank slate’
For any creator, if perhaps only for a brief moment, this can feel like the most terrifying thing in the world.
You’re joking, right? What’s so frightening about a blank piece of paper?
It’s because, until we make any kind of mark, it contains every possibility. It could become anything. Limitless. Infinite.
That infinity is scary.
And yet the moment we do make a mark, we’re committed. The world irrevocably changed. That infinity is gone, forever.
That responsibility is scary.
That commitment is scary.
That choice is scary.
However brief it may be, that knife-edge moment before action, before change, can indeed seem the most terrifying thing in the world…
Oh, sure, that’s just fancy artists and their imagined angst, right? Emoting about nothing?
Actually, no. It’s the same fear for anyone who creates any kind of change. Ask any engineer: they’ll feel the same moment of fear just before the drill-bit hits that blank sheet of steel. Have I done it right? Is this the right size, the right drill? Is the right place? Measure twice, before you cut once. Measure again, just to make sure. Check everything. Check everything again. Even if it’s just for a millisecond, yeah, they’ll feel that same fear.
If we’re not ready for it, aware of it, that fear can be unbearable, debilitating, disabling; trapped in a moment of indecision and inaction, preventing the change that we need.
Okay, yeah, sure. Scary, scary. Wow. Huh. So why are you making out that this is something important, some kind of big deal? It’s all gone in a flash anyway, isn’t it? - no-one even notices it, right?
Actually, no, this is not something we can casually ignore. If we do notice it, then yeah, we can get stuck in an agony of indecision - as I did in that surprisingly-long moment with my notebook in the café. Not good; not helpful. But if we don’t notice it, and don’t respect it, then it becomes all too easy to plough right on, never see that infinity of options, and instead fall straight into solutioneering: ‘the act of creating a solution before understanding the true root of the problem’. Also not good; also likewise decidedly not helpful.
And why this matters is because right now, all of us are facing huge changes, all around us, coming at us faster and harder every day. Once we allow ourselves to notice that fact, it’s clear that almost none of our supposedly-‘normal’ world works properly any more; or, to be blunt about it, it’s doubtful that it ever did, though that’s another story, of course. But either way, if we’re to survive and thrive in what’s coming at us in an increasingly-near future, we’ll need to make some real choices, right now, to set things up to be ready for whatever change will come our way.
So one of the things that we do need to be ready for is that fear that arises just before we act upon some kind of ‘blank slate’. True, we might not often find ourselves facing a literal blank-slate, or even a blank piece of paper for that matter; yet there are all too many of their metaphoric equivalents hidden away in every choice, every change, every action. Every choice, however small, is itself a moment for change, each one containing its own near-infinite myriad of possibility.
And yeah, don’t mock it: that moment is scary. More to the point, if that brief moment doesn’t feel scary, then we’re probably not respecting the choice enough. However small a choice may be, we still need to respect that choice, what it means, what it may be, and what will come to be or not-be as an outcome of our choice.
Every choice is an infinity; every choice represents real responsibility; every choice demands commitment: there are good reasons why all of these can seem scary, and why we need to respect that fear, too. Yet if we want good change to happen, we need to face down that most terrifying thing in the world, and get started!
I liked this post. And this is exactly what I imagine novelists must face sometimes...
Hi Tom,
It is that innate fear that adds to the quality of the resultant words on the blank sheet. The proverbial " gut feel" so to speak.