The Reasons We Fail To Start Our Personal Projects

by Liam Reid

So you’ve had a project ‘in the works’ for a while now. How long has it been? Weeks – months even? You’ve told enough people about it to make it seem tangible, but haven’t given it enough life for it to be viable all by itself.

The existence of our endeavours in pure conception give us a drive, give us a sense of purpose and meaning, yet there still seems to be something amiss. Something causing us to hold these ideas at arm’s length. Why do we then fail to start?

I

What are the Things Holding us Back?

Fear

We find ourselves paralysed by fear; transfixed in our inability to write, or craft, to learn or move.

Fear is as natural a part of humanity as hunger. Without fear having been present in our caveman ancestors, I’m tentative to believe humanity would be here today. But where fear is instrumental in sharpening our focus on that which has the potential to hurt, sicken or destroy us, it is rationality which provides us with the tools to navigate and overcome those fears.

Our ancestors feared the bear. Understandably so, granted. But our ancestors feared them so much that the word ‘bear’ comes from a Proto-Germanic root meaning ‘the brown one’. They would rather use a euphemistic term than call them by name, should they so happen to invoke the beast; in much the same spirit ‘Bloody Mary’, ‘Beetlejuice’ or ‘Voldemort’.

Using our rather high Encephalisation Quotient — that’s brain-to-body ratio, for all us liberal arts students — we learned to overcome that fear. We realised it would be better to station the tasks of cooking and storing food to somewhere outside of the camp, so we didn’t find ourselves rudely awoken by bears ravaging our pantries. We thought it wise to keep with us spears at our bedside; for personal protection and peace of mind. Somewhere in there also, we learned that bears are powerfully attracted to the scent of human urine… so that had to happen away from camp too. And I imagine, it was common practice to bring a spear-wielding friend along for the journey.

Suffice to say, we superseded our fear of bears with knowledge of how to navigate or to defeat the object of our fear. And with these tools and understandings, we allowed ourselves to make space for a respect and appreciation for the beasts.

Our fears are irrational. That is not to say our fears are not valuable, but simply that they precede thought and reflection. Devoid of our tools of cognition, our fears seem insurmountable. With them, however, we see ways in which we can work around or completely ameliorate our fears. But in order to tackle our fears, we must first know them. So the question at hand is of the identity and nature of the objects of our fear. What exactly are the things which compel us against starting the meaningful work?


Choice

Whether actively or tacitly, we seem to know that we have free will; a freedom to do whatever it is that we choose. This radical freedom, however, has its drawbacks. This often comes in the form of choice-anxiety. In realising that we are the cardinal agents of our life choices, we are overcome with realisation that anything we opt for has the potential to either make us or break us. A lot of weight to put on our shoulders, right?

This kind of choice-induced, crippling apprehension pushes to act in what Jean-Paul Sartre calls Bad Faith. Rather than assuming the mantle of Chief Architect of our lives, we reduce ourselves to a figurative rubber dinghy; floating on the seas, subject to the whims of the waves. It is easier to convince ourselves that we don’t have a choice – that we cannot leave our jobs, that what we want is incompatible with our present lives, or that our desires are simply unrealistic – and so we merely abandon the pursuit of these whatevers. It is a grand cop-out.


Change

For some endeavours we may be required to completely reformulate our lives. We may have to abandon certain activities, ventures or relationships, in favour of that which we believe to deserve the place of primary importance. It may be required that we completely uproot ourselves; leave jobs, homes, cities, continents.

We find comfort in equilibrium; to have our daily lives balanced, and regular, and quantifiable and well understood. It fares well to know that your needs are met; from where we will get your next meal, that bills are paid, and from whom you will fulfil your need for human connectedness. So to destabilise this balance — in our minds, it may seem — is to threaten ourselves with uncertainty. The greater the magnitude of change, the greater the imbalance. The greater the imbalance, the greater the risk of self-sabotage.

II

I’m, However, Not Convinced That We Really Fear Change…

Consider the notion that is not the change itself, but the transition into change which we fear.

We tremble at the idea of jumping into a cold swimming pool. We dip our toes into the water, as a temperature gauge to justify our apprehension of diving in. The colder we deem it, the more we tense up and tarry at the poolside. And then, by whatever resolve or divine provenance, we find ourselves submerged in the water. Initially, there may have been some sharp breaths and an ephemeral moment of regret, but I will dare to assume that — once those things passed — it wasn’t all that bad. Enjoyable, even. And with time, just as we initially feared jumping into the pool for its cold; we then don’t wish to leave it for fear of wind chill above the water’s surface.

We find ourselves in our comfort zones, where there is no growth, and there is no decline. It is stasis. There is nothing inherently wrong with stasis — simply maintaining that which you already have — but choosing stasis over change will never allow us to do the things we wish to do; we will only get more of the same.


Failure

If we fear to start because we fear failure, it’s because we fear the end won’t match up to our expectations, or we fear that we ourselves will fall short of what’s necessary.

We can often find ourselves starting out with lofty goals, catching ourselves in reverie about having our business or ventures taking off in a big way. And projection is good; it allows us to contextualise our present actions alongside a desired future. But when we predicate accolades, renown, pooling wealth and perfection all onto this idea of ‘success’, and then tack on this conception of ‘success’ onto our projects and aspirations, then anything which falls short of this seems like failure. Before the journey even begins, our ambitions die the death of ‘not quite being good enough’.

But for us to fear failure in this way is to uncover a flaw in our value system. In valuing the end so far over valuing the means, you value the destination over the journey. And when it comes down to it; life is only ever about the journey. You may take the wrong path, you might end up somewhere you never intended, you might fail to reach the end you aimed for — but you can’t fail a journey.

Life isn’t a video game where you gain new skills, movesets or stat increases only once you complete the level. Our nature is organic. We are constantly growing, constantly changing. The morphology of our aptitudes and knowledge is fluid. The only means by which we should define our successes are in regards to the excellence with which we undertake our projects and our tasks. By our diligence, our willingness to hone our skills, and deepen our connection with our craft. The only real failure is in not starting at all.

III

WHAT CAN WE DO IN ORDER TO SHIFT INTO THIS STATE OF PURSUIT?

Stop Preloading Information

It is important to study and listen and learn in order for us to gain mastery of a given thing, but not in lieu of actually doing the thing.

We have a tendency to over-intellectualise our pursuits: to spend an abundant number of hours watching videos on content creation, language acquisition, cooking, hobbycraft, and the like.

We spend our time ingesting information on these topics under the guise of ‘crafting the perfect plan of attack’; finding optimal methods, adopting the tools and systems of the experts, developing an encyclopaedic knowledge of everything related to your field of interest. We tell ourselves we’re merely learning enough to put ourselves in good stead for when we do start. But the truth of the matter is that it is more often a disingenuous tool of procrastination.

Take the theoretical Wilhelm — who is in no way thinly-veiled author surrogate. Say he’s spent 1000 hours preloading information over the last 3 years (which would be a severe underestimate). Although I— he may have some theoretical idea as to how best to go about starting any of these endeavours, he will have little to no practical experience of any of them. Had Wilhelm merely taken only a third of that time to actually do some of these things; his Ancient Greek would be a lot better, and he would be giving out axe heads as Christmas gifts.

When you’re in the beginning stages, researching to any depth significantly beyond what is necessary to start is actually procrastination.


Fear Setting

“We often suffer more in imagination than in reality”

— Seneca the Younger

The Stoic practice of premeditatio malorum, or ‘the premeditation of evils’, requires us to actively think about our fears. If we don’t lend time to considering the ways in which things may go awry, then should those situations befall us, we will find ourselves unprepared to deal with them. Premeditatio malorum requires us to envision our fears in as vivid and complex detail as possible; to feel its grasp, and discern its implications.

Tim Ferriss’ fear setting is rooted in this ancient practice. As he puts it: to conquer fear is to define fear.

In short, fear setting requires to:

  1. Define the fears we have – from inconveniences to worst-case scenarios.
  2. Outline ways we could prevent the fears from taking place. And;
  3. Should the worst happen, posit how we could repair the damage done.

Taking Responsibility for Your Choices

Dreams often go unpursued because we allow life to happen to us. We fail to use our agency, and seemingly prefer to watch as life and happenstance career us further away from that which we desire. Yes, we are subject to chance and fortune, but that doesn’t mean choice is futile. To do nothing is to choose to do nothing. If we gain nothing, more often than not, it is because we have done nothing.

As my favourite among the Wise said: “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”.

Just Start

It feels like this one doesn’t need much elaborating on at this point. You should know what holding you back, and what needs to be done to combat it.

Looking up from the ground; the mountain of our desires can seem unconquerable. But no mountain was ever clomb simply staring at its peak.