Overthinking

You would think that If you’ve successfully managed to do something once, whether it be writing a short story; a novel; a song; or running one mile, or eleven, that you would believe that you could do so again. 

Not me.

Each week, when I’ve finished writing my blog and posted it, I have an initial high of having achieved something that I questioned possible.  And then, I crumble, declining into self-doubt.  ‘I’ll never be able to do it again.’  I begin to panic.  It’s the reason why there’s been a distinct absence of postings this past fortnight.

The university online magazine has been going a process of rejuvenation and so this week I wrote and submitted my first creative gardening column since before Christmas.  And for the first time it was a real challenge to write it. 

My thoughts, which had flowed with an effortless ease and felt so natural before the holiday period when I was in the zone, suddenly, seemed clogged.  Still, with a deadline to keep I forced myself to keep writing through the awfulness of the first draft and eventually got it finished. 

The response from the Only In Winchester editor was positive and for an hour or two I felt great, alternating between a high of relief and jubilation.  Until I remembered that within a week I needed to write and submit my next column, and that it had to be as good as what I had just written, if not better.

Was that even possible? 

Perhaps it was a fluke that I wrote a solid article this week: what if I just got lucky?

So of course, I went over and over the all-important question, how did I manage to do it?  That left me analyzing: over thinking the whole process.  

But it’s not just with writing that I do this.

Over the last few years I have fallen in love with running.  To me nothing feels as empowering as pounding along the country lanes, or, as I do now, upon the treadmill in the garage.  The problem is that each time I run, I fail to out-run the same old distrust that tomorrow, I will not be able to manage the distance I have run today.

It's as if each time I run, I'm on my very first run.

A couple of years ago I trained for the Swindon half marathon, which disappointingly due to a chest infection I didn’t compete in, and it was a nightmare.  Every time I went out to train I felt sick with worry that I couldn’t do it.  Over the months the only way I could cope with the insidious doubt was to increase the distance on each run.  I had to push myself and exceed the amount I had run on my previous session just to get through it.

Sounds stupid I know.

If I had run seven miles last time, I wouldn't be able to believe that I could do it again.  But if I told myself that I would run eight miles then that was a new challenge and that felt different: I always rise to a challenge.

Because that’s my other foible, if I think I can’t do something then I have to prove to myself that I can.  And if someone else tells me I can’t do something or won't be able to achieve a target, well then I really, really have to conquer it.   It’s a sort of stubbornness I guess.  Not that I really want to admit to that.

Anyway, this week Steve has been listening to the audio book ‘How We Decide’ written by Jonah Lehrer and the other morning he rushed in from the gym all excited, to tell me that my little ‘oddities’ are in fact actual, recognized conditions.

And it was quite a relief really.

Apparently, this type of ‘choking’ as it’s called has been heavily researched by Neuroscientists and is caused by over-thinking. 

This makes sense. 

As a perfectionist, you do tend to over think a lot. 

I now that when I am blocked creatively it’s generally because I have been straining to over plan and perfect (see previous blog on perfectionism, if in any doubt!) what I am working on.

This research is fascinating stuff and far too technical for me, so the breakdown which I have assimilated and can understand is this; we have our instinctive side of the brain and the logical part of the brain.  When the logical overrules the instinctive trouble occurs.  Because then we doubt our actions and ourselves and creativity becomes stilted and wooden. 

Yesterday, I witnessed a great example of this with my piano playing.  Before my lesson I squeezed in twenty minutes of practice and played well.  The pieces that I have been working on flowed.  My fingering was as it should be and it felt, and sounded, to me, great.

Half an hour later, sat beside my piano teacher and striving to play my best, to show her just how much I had improved during the week, I misplayed notes.  I fumbled with reading the music and my fingering was all over the place.

Once again, my nerves and desperation to succeed got the better of me.

Her advice was to learn to trust myself. 

My fingers, she said had been hovering above the correct keys.  My natural instincts were telling me correctly that this was where my hands should be.  But with my hesitation and incessant need to get it right, doubt crept in and I moved my fingers along the keys to play the wrong note.

So instinct, that quiet voice inside that whispers to us, does know a thing or too.

But why do we stop listening to our intuition?

Fear is a big reason.  Along with the need to be perfect; and ours, and other people’s expectations of us.

For professional athletes this is known as ‘Choking Under Pressure’ for musicians who have debuted with a successful first album there is the difficulty of creating a ‘Second Album’ after their first.  And for writers there is the well-documented ‘Second Book Syndrome (SNS)’, which affects writers who having written a bestseller struggle under the weight and expectations placed upon them and their second book by themselves, readers and critics.   

There’s a great article on the Times Online detailing this phenomenon faced by many top writers entitled, ‘Your Only As Good As Your Second Novel.’

Although it doesn’t solve the problem there is a certain comfort to be found in knowing that we are not alone in this creatively crippling condition.  It does though explain why many writers advocate using visualization and meditation techniques to get into the ‘zone’ of writing and creating.  Because when you’re in the zone, you’re no longer even thinking let alone over-thinking.  You are simply doing.  And that is when we create our best work, allowing our instinctive and intuitive abilities to be released and dance freely upon the page.

And now it’s time for me to stop procrastinating and head out to the garage to do my daily run, which I have been dreading all morning while I've been writing.  Even though I know that when I'm finally running I will feel happy and inspired.  Beforehand though my thoughts and any sense of logic have as usual become shrouded by the fear that I will not able to accomplish it.

Ridiculous I know.

What I need to do is get out there and just do it.  To silence the logical part of my brain and allow my body to do what it loves to do, to become lost in the meditative thud of my footsteps along the treadmill and just run for the absolute joy of running.

If you're interested, this is another great article, Overthinking Is The Enemy Of Creatives, on the Future Buzz blog.

Comments

[Cathy Olliffe]

Hey Mel: I have one word for you - RELAX!
Actually, I have a few: you write, you run, you play piano, you have a relationship that matters... I don't know what else you do but that is an enormous list! Take it easy on yourself and don't overthink!
I learned this lesson from my years as a reporter: I didn't have time to over-think anything. I came back from the interview and immediately wrote the story, as quickly as possible, because I had to go on to the next story, and write that one, and so on... when I was starting out, I agonized over every word, then learned that every word was as good as the one before it and after it, and if it was strong enough to come out on paper through my fingers, it was strong enough to carry on by itself.
Now when I write, I write the same way. I'm not saying my stories are wonderful, by any means, but I like them, and I'm happy because I just sit down and write them, without guidelines, without stress, without worrying. Sometimes when I sit down at the computer I don't even have an idea, but I trust myself that something will come out. And I'm never disappointed.
Anyway, enjoyed your post. Hope you enjoyed your run. And your writing. And everything else you tackle in your busy life.