New Beginnings and Conquering Fear

This week's Wednesday post is a day late for two reasons:

1) Yesterday was my birthday, and as the song says, "It's my party, and I'll skip my blog post if I want to."

2) It was the first day of school.

Yes, after a summer off doing little more than composing and writing, the new school year started.  Around three hundred children poured through the doors of our school to all sorts of new and exciting things: new teachers, new rooms, new subjects, new friends.  For many, it was probably a terrifying experience.

It was also a new and exciting day for their teachers: new students, new rooms, new subjects, new colleagues.  For nearly every single one of us, it was a terrifying experience, too.

Why?  As much as our brains crave novelty and the stimulation that newness provides, we also fear it.  Franklin Roosevelt quipped that the only thing we had to fear was fear itself.  The novelty of a new school year is rife with fear of the unknown: Will the students like me?  Will they behave?  Will I be able to teach them?  Will I be able to suffer that dratted alarm when it goes off at the same insane, early hour every morning?

As the day progressed, I felt my fear melting away.  This struck me as strange, since I don't even start teaching students until the school day's half over.  I finally realized why: I'd been facing novelty -- the fear of the unknown -- every day, all summer long.  Every single time I sat down at the computer or the keyboard, ready to embark upon another excursion into composing or writing, I had the unknown staring right back.  The questions weren't quite the same, but similar: Will my work today go well?  Will the notes and words behave themselves and get into nice, orderly patterns?  Will I be able to do anything with the work I produce today?  Will I get anything done before the day's over and I have to quit?

By the time yesterday rolled around, I'd faced that fear countless times.  I don't think you ever really become fearless -- I think that's an illusion perpetuated by too many action movies.  I think you can, however, acclimate yourself to the fear so that the next time it rears its ugly head, you've faced it enough, dealt with it, conquered it, that it's nothing more than an annoyance, something to be dealt with ... but not something all-consuming and paralyzing.

And so this morning, as I sit back at my desk and prepare to get back to my creative work, I know the fear will be there waiting for me -- Will I be able to get anything productive done?  Will it be any good -- but I also know that I've learned how to manage it, and that all the new experiences I encounter, despite the fear, and just opportunities to the next good thing in life.