So what is it that keeps us from making that final move and accomplishing that small goal for today? That simple thing we just needed to get done, and its been on the list forever. It beckons, and whispers to us. But we don’t feel called. We feel pushed. Pushed out on a plank above deep water. Finishing the task is like taking the last step. And there is no net.

We spend years procrastinating. This is a not a broad brush condemnation of others, this is a self own. I am a master of the art. Trips spent not picking up or buying the small beautiful items I will never see again – pictures, jewelry, baubles of glass. Always a reason not to – to wait, to come back later. Places I did not go, things I did not try, groups I did not join. Because. What if no one liked it, or me? What if I am no good at it? Better to do it the next time. I’ll be back when I have more time. Later.

In my past life this procrastination was hidden behind the curtain of not having time. Enabled by a poor work-life balance, I put things off because work came first. It was unnatural to find time to create and enjoy. It was easy to procrastinate. In fact, it felt quite justified. After all, I was “leaning in”.

But times change, and here is the rub. I now have time. Quite a bit of time to be frank. And yet I only write two or three paragraphs before I tuck away my draft blog, before it is set aside to ponder on. Before it goes to live in the Draft folder for months on end. Never complete or good enough to post. That last step before the plunge. I balance on at the end of the plank, looking down.

Worse yet, I now pause to think before I create. I do not put brush to canvas or pen to paper because – what if its not all that good? To put it off is to not be judged. Because I will judge it. I sail this ship. I built the plank. It is my battle that keeps me standing on its edge.

Why? Why would I, suddenly enabled by fate, become my own disabler? The struggle is palatable, daily. Why?

According to my “Strengths” assessment, I am a “Learner” at heart. And years of being in the corporate world has taught me much. The lesson that becomes ingrained is that there is always a score card. A small, black chalkboard with your name on it that tracks every mistake and misstep. No matter what BS McKinsey & Co is selling or leadership nonsense about learning through failure – failure is not generally well tolerated. It is marked on the chalk board and carried relentlessly across the years. There is a significant gap between what is said in a Bloomberg interview or TED talk and what happens in the slow, inevitable, everyday grind of just getting the job done. You are judged. And in return, you become judgmental, with the harshest view turned inside.

Self assessment. Self judgement. That is the creativity killer that sticks. A motivational double-think. The instigator and nurturer of penultimate procrastination. To procrastinate is to avoid judgement. Even if self inflicted.

So now here I am. Hardly anyone reads my blog (by design no less), but I hesitate to finish because what if I offend or bore (the biggest offense of all)? No one sees my art except for beleaguered family members who cannot escape the wine fueled texting, but still I hesitate to start. Or if started, to make the final brush stroke to finish. Because once finished, it can be judged – because I will judge it. To delay judgement, I perfect procrastination. Because who wants to be judged? No one really volunteers to walk the plank.

With all this time in hand, a blank piece of paper should be an invitation to hope and beauty and joy. To heed the whisper to come hither and create. Not viewed as a jump into shark infested waters.

So everyday I fight this small battle with myself. To start the story. Pick up the brush. Take a pen in hand. No one is looking. Only me. And I have to stop. Step out of the ingrained habit to judge and criticize. Step away from the blackboard. Put down the chalk. Erase my name.

But, while I do battle alone, I know I am not alone in this battle. Others struggle too. Many close to me. Some to exhaustion, fueled by guilt. We must see each other. And put down the chalk. Pick up the eraser. No judgement.

Lastly, and most importantly, this is not a coy plea for affirmation. The compliments I receive are jewels I cherish. They feed my soul. I write this in acknowledgement that finding joy is hard. It can be sidestepped by self-doubt and the inner harsh critique. This battle will not end with more followers or a love emoji. It will always be here. Plank in sight. And we must master the art of walking it. Stepping cleanly to the edge and jumping without fear. And while falling, think not “that was poorly done”, but think of the color of the rising wind, the sound of the deep night, the vast ocean. The whispering of paint on paper. The solidness of words. These are the treasures at the end of the dive. They are mine if I can reach them. Treasures to take into battle next time.

Without judgement.