How to love yourself enough to get started

I’ll be honest, this isn’t what I planned to post.

I thought this would start with me sharing a painting video. You know, the usual-> blank canvas, ambient music, something introspective about art and emotion. But when the time came, I froze. Not because I didn’t want to paint, but because I am feeling vulnerable about putting myself out there.

Recording is strange. It’s one thing to create alone. It’s another to grab a camera and hit record knowing you are going to have to watch it later.

Suddenly, every hesitation becomes a flaw. Every stroke feels like it’s being judged, but now I realize I am the one doing passing judgement.

Have you ever noticed that a painful remark hurts more if you thought about it first? If it’s confirming a fear?

That’s the trap of beginnings. The fear isn’t that you’ll fail. It’s fear of the confirmation of your own worries combined with the unknown.

So rather than recording I’m writing this. A kind of confession, I guess.

I keep telling myself that the first attempt doesn’t need to be perfect.

That art, the real art, isn’t about showing mastery in delivery. It’s in the depth, the rough edges, the shaky hands, the awkward pauses when you’re not sure what comes next.

Maybe that’s the point. Maybe the recording isn’t supposed to capture perfection, it’s supposed to capture presence.

I’m realizing I can’t wait until I’m ready.

Because if I wait to feel ready, I’ll never start.

Have you ever thought of standing on a thin ledge, an unknown depth in front of you? Imagine it if you can. The wind whipping by, hinting at the amount of time you might spend plunging into the unfamiliar void.

The readiness to jump never comes.

And maybe you’ve been there too. The blank page, the unopened project, a song you haven’t recorded, the message you haven’t sent. The hesitation before the first action, the first brushstroke is universal, it gives you chills. That’s the wind on the cliff, reminding you of the fall.

Time to jump. I’ll admit it, I’m afraid.

So I’ll make you a deal. I’ll hit record, even if the lighting’s bad. Even if my voice cracks. Even if Red rolls his eyes or Green tries to edit the footage into something “marketable.”

I’ll start anyway.

Because beginnings don’t have to be beautiful but they do have to begin.

~ Shadow

“Perfection in imperfection.”