You’re afraid because something went well in your life once, so obviously nothing can ever go well again. You’re afraid you neglected your creativity for so long that now you can never get it back. You’re afraid you never had any best work to begin with. You’re afraid your best work is behind you. You’re afraid of unleashing your innermost demons, and you really don’t want to encounter your innermost demons. You’re afraid of what your peers and coworkers will say if you express your personal truth aloud. You’re afraid of upsetting your family with what you may reveal. (I don’t know what this has to do with creativity, exactly, but experience has taught me that most of us are afraid we’re too fat, so let’s just put that on the anxiety list, for good measure.) You’re afraid of being exposed as a hack, or a fool, or a dilettante, or a narcissist. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of training or degree. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of work space, or financial freedom, or empty hours in which to focus on invention or exploration. You’re afraid you don’t have the right kind of discipline. You’re afraid that someday you’ll look back on your creative endeavors as having been a giant waste of time, effort, and money. You’re afraid your dreams are embarrassing. You’re afraid your work isn’t politically, emotionally, or artistically important enough to change anyone’s life. You’re afraid you won’t be taken seriously. You’re afraid somebody will steal your ideas, so it’s safer to keep them hidden forever in the dark. You’re afraid everybody else already did it better. You’re afraid somebody else already did it better. You’re afraid there’s no market for your creativity, and therefore no point in pursuing it. You’re afraid you’ll be rejected or criticized or ridiculed or misunderstood or-worst of all-ignored. “Let me list for you some of the many ways in which you might be afraid to live a more creative life: You’re afraid you have no talent.

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