From the space between send and reply, this is Overthinking the Awesome with David Cosgrove. Welcome back. This is a bonus episode. Something I wanted to talk about because, well, I live it. I make music, I write books, I create things for living and for love. And if you're someone who makes things, art, music, writing, code, videos, anything, you know exactly what I'm about to describe. The paralysis before you start, the perfectionism while you're working, the comparison after you're done, the voice that says, Who are you to make this? This is overthinking creative work, and it might be the most personal episode I've done. Before we start, I want to give a quick thanks to this episode's sponsor, Westwood Provisions, handmade candles out of Simsbury, Connecticut. When I'm recording or writing, the right atmosphere matters. These folks get that. Connect with Westwood Provisions on Instagram and Facebook. Tell them the Overthinker sent you. You have an idea. Maybe it's a song, a story, a painting, a business, a project that's been living in your head, fully formed or half-baked, waiting for you to make it real. And you want to. You really do. You can feel it in there, pressing against the walls of your skull, asking to be born. But every time you sit down to start, something stops you. Maybe it's fear. Fear that it won't be good enough, that you'll fail, that people will see you trying and judge you for it. Maybe it's comparison, scrolling through what other people have made, people who seem so much more talented, so much further along, so much more deserving of an audience. Maybe it's perfectionism, the knowledge that what you make won't match what you imagined, and the belief that the gap between vision and execution is evidence of fraud. Whatever it is, it keeps you stuck. The idea stays an idea. The project stays in your head. And every day it doesn't exist in the world, you feel a little more like you failed before you even started. Why creative work triggers overthinkers? Creative work is uniquely terrifying for overthinkers because there's no right answer. With most things, you can research your way to confidence. You can gather data, compare options, find the objectively best path. But creativity does not work like that. There's no objectively best song, no correct novel, no formula for painting that guarantees people will love it. And for a brain that wants certainty before commitment, that's pure hell. You can't overthink your way to a guaranteed outcome because there's no such thing. Add that to the exposure. Creative work is you. Your taste, your voice, your weird little perspective on the world. Offered up for judgment. It's not just, did I do this right? It's do people like who I am when I'm making things? No wonder we freeze. But here's what I've learned after decades of making things. The fear never goes away. The resistance never disappears. You just learn to work with it. How do we find this click? With creative work, there are actually three common clicks, three places where the spirals just tend to start. First, before you even get started, the click is the moment you shift from I want to make this to, but what if it's not good enough? The moment possibility turns into paralysis. Second, while you're working, the click is the moment you start comparing your work in progress to someone else's finished product. Or when you notice the gap between what you envisioned and what's on the page or the screen or the canvas. Third, after you finish. The click is the moment you shift from I made this to but will anyone care? The moment creation turns to comparison. Notice which click gets you. Name it. There's the fear of starting. There's the comparison loop. There's the post-creation doubt. Let's change the narrator for each of these clicks. Before you start, the narrator says, It has to be good. Redirect. It has to exist first. Good comes later. Good comes from doing, not from waiting. While you're working, the narrator says, This isn't as good as what they made. Redirect. I'm comparing my first draft to their final cut. That's not a fair comparison. And besides, I'm not making their thing. I'm making my thing. After you finish, the narrator says, Nobody will care. Redirect. The goal wasn't applause. The goal was making the thing. I made the thing. That's the win. And here's the universal redirect that works at any stage. The only failed creative work is the one that never gets made. What's the awesome move here? Here's the move that changed everything for me. Separate creation from evaluation. Overthinkers try to do both at once. We try to make the thing and judge the thing simultaneously. That's impossible. You can't drive a car while grading your driving. So split them up. When you're creating, you're only creating. No judging, no comparison. No, is this good enough? That comes later, if at all. Give yourself permission to make garbage. Seriously, tell yourself this draft can be terrible. It can suck. I just have to finish it. Because a terrible first draft can become a good second draft. But nothing can become anything if it doesn't exist. Then later, after you've made the thing, you can put on the editor hat, the producer hat, the critic hat. You can evaluate and refine and polish. But creation and evaluation are two different modes. They use different parts of your brain, and trying to do both at once is why you freeze. And here's a bonus awesome move. Use your overthinking brain to serve the work, not to judge yourself. Your pattern-seeking brain can find plot holes in your story. Your scenario generating brain can anticipate problems in your project. Your attention to detail can make your work better if you point at the work instead of at yourself. Overthinking is a creative superpower. You just have to learn when to deploy it and when to put it on pause. I've been making music for almost 40 years. I've written books, I've shifted work I was proud of, and work I wasn't sure about. And I can tell you, the fear never goes away. Every time I start something new, there's that little voice that says, Who are you to do this? Every time I finish something, there's a little voice that says, this isn't good enough. But I've learned something. That voice is not the authority. It's just fear dressed up as wisdom. And fear doesn't get any vote on whether I make things. The only way to get better at creative work is to do it. The only way to find your voice is to use it. The only way to make something great is to make a lot of things. And let some of them be terrible. Hey, they can't all be gems, right? So make the thing, make it scared, make it messy. Make it before you're ready. The world doesn't need your perfect work, it needs your honest work, the work that only you could make, in the way that only you could make it. If you're an overthinker who makes things or wants to make things, you're in good company. The same brain that spirals is the brain that sees connections others miss. The same brain that doubts is the brain that strives for excellence. The same brain that fears judgment is the brain that cares deeply about craft. You don't need to fix your brain. You need to put it to work. On the work. For the work. So go make something. Start today. Start scared. Start messy. Start. Remember, the only failed creative work is the one that never gets made. Thank you for listening to season two of Overthinking the Awesome. I'm David Cosgrove. If this episode hit you where you live, the book goes even deeper. Overthinking the Awesome, how to turn anxiety, spiraling, and self-doubt into clarity and confidence is available on Amazon and Kindle and Paperback and on Audible. And if you want to hear what happens when an overthinker makes music, find Del Piambo. That's my music project wherever you stream. Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon, anywhere. Decades of proof that scared is not the same as stopped. Got questions, stories, or topics? Hit me at davidcosgrove.com or find me on Instagram at Dell Piambo Music. Thanks again for listening. Stay safe out there, and remember, your mind isn't too much. You're just learning how to play.