Frozen
What if I mess this up?
We’re in the initial stages of a new project that I’m genuinely excited about. It’s got everything I love: dry-laid stone walls, mossy boulders, standing stones, exposed ledge, a walkway made of oversized slabs of stone, antique granite steps, and—most exciting for me—a sculptural stone wall.
This sculptural stone wall has me hung up.
What’s the big deal, you may ask? From the outside, this must seem like any other dry stone project I’ve done over the years. But to me, this sculptural stone wall holds great importance. As I mentioned in a recent post, my vision for Norton Stoneworks is to create awe-inspiring artistic stone installations. I want to blur the line between tradesman and artist. This project feels like a significant step in that direction.
I’m right where I want to be. I want to be designing and working on challenging, artistic projects. I want to be working with thoughtful, engaged collaborators. I want to be working with clients that love stone and are truly excited about the work.
This project is exactly what I want. And I’m afraid.
I’m afraid the work won’t be as good as the idea in my head. I’m afraid I’ll find out my vision for the company is more of a delusion. What if I’m not as good as I hope I am? What if I’m just another bloke pounding on rocks? How will my ego survive that?
That fear is causing me to freeze up. Every little decision feels like it has massive consequences. I’m questioning my design. I’m overanalyzing the layout. I’m overthinking all the little details. There’s a fine line between thinking things through and overthinking them to death, and right now, I’m on the wrong side of that line.
It’s no way to work.
One of the blessings of stonework (and its curses) is its physicality. Stonework has a way of pulling you back into the present moment. It's hard to stay stuck in your head when you're lifting, shaping, and stacking heavy stones. The body takes over. Somehow, the stones will start falling into place. I’ll let go of the lofty expectations and just get back to doing the work.
I’ve learned that this fear isn’t a bad thing. It’s a sign I care. It’s a sign I’m doing meaningful work. It’s part of the process. I don’t enjoy the fear in the moment, but I know it won’t last long. It’s a passing feeling. I try to accept it and let it go as quickly as possible.
A good night’s sleep does wonders, too.