I’ve had a beast hiding in my head for so long without realizing that it was there.
Until I recognized it, I didn’t know where these ideas came from. Ideas like that I’m stuck, I’m not qualified, I’m a fraud, an imposter. Or that what I’m doing is worthless, that it might not work, it will fail, and will make me feel like a loser, even if it works, I’ll have to do it again soon because it will be obsolete, so why bother? Or the opposite idea that I’m absolutely right, I’m doing the best thing anyone can do, and the world will hug me for what I offer, and everyone will embrace it and appreciate how much time and effort I’ve put into it. I don’t need to improve anything, it’s just fantastic.
These ideas kept me from dreaming big or doing great work. I just fit in and kept a low profile like everyone around.
Then I started noticing it. I realized that all my life, I had been distracted from doing the necessary work, not by something out in the world but by a loud, angry critique on my shoulder.
I tried to make it go away, control it, or ignore it. But it was manifest that I couldn’t. The more I fought it or tried to calm it down, the louder and angrier it became.
Up until I started being a marketer, I had a little struggle with my inner beast. It was there but didn’t often punch me in the face or freeze my mind.
I mean, I wrestled with it a few times, like when I leaped from doing dentistry to selling dental technology to fellow dentists. And I wrestled with it, again and again, each time I moved from one position to the next in my career.
But once I was no more a part of a system with a clear job description to follow, once I had all those decisions to think about and make on my own, once I was in charge of creating something and putting it in the world, the beast turned really fierce.
I’ll give you an example of how this played out every time I was up to something. It was my first launch campaign. I found myself in the center of the whole thing, from interpreting my client’s brief into a marketing plan to orchestrating copywriting, design, production, media, up until the launch event with 300 attendees. By that time, I started having nightmares, not the ones you have while sleeping, but those that wake you up at night.
I remember waking up anxious and worried about the 1000 thoughts crashing in my head like cars in a street without traffic signals in Nigeria. I remember the fear of uncertainty, sweating on cold nights, restlessness in the bed, failing to go back to sleep, and the ever looping questions: “What have I put myself into? - Am I qualified for this? - Will it work? - How big will I fail?” And the more I squeezed my head between my two pillows to un-hear the beast, the louder it shouted at me.
It came night after night after night and during the day too. And it kept scaring the sheet out of me every time I created something.
So I decided to learn about it. And I owe so much to Seth Godin and The Marketing Seminar and to Steven Pressfield and The War of Art.
I realized that my inner beast, the noise, the internal critique, the lizard brain, the resistance, or whatever it’s called, was true. And that all it wanted was to keep me safe, like a mother shielding her kid or shouting at him to prevent him from crossing the street. It wanted to prevent me from dragging myself into shame or misery because the work I do might fail.
In addition, I realized that I have no control over the result of what I’m doing, that it’s like the Birmingham weather, unpredictable. It might work or fail. At the same time, I have all the control over HOW I do the work, and that I can focus on making it as best as I can. And that when I generously intend to help others with my work, the focus shifts from the willingness to satisfy my ego to a desire to do the work in the best possible way. And that if it fails, it only means that it failed and that I have something to learn from it.
So, I learned to shift my focus from the outcome to how I’m doing the work.
This way, I’m deceiving my beast into that I’m protected from shame and misery if the work fails. But also, I’m becoming more humble if it does work. I became detached from the outcome.
I also learned that when my inner beast shows up, it means that I’m up to something. So, I made peace with it. I actually wait for it to show up because then I know that I’m on the right track. Now, I embrace it. I welcome it.
That unlocked my potential.
Dancing with my inner beast turned out to be more fun than fighting with it or ignoring it. It opened doors for me to never settle down. Not only did I deliver some globally recognized marketing works in the pharma space, but also I managed to leave the corporate life and start my own modern marketing business where I also help my clients to make peace with their angry beasts, a leap of faith that was impossible if I didn’t learn how to dance with mine.
Now, I can dedicate myself to building something, regardless of the outcome, and being ok with the idea that after dedicating myself to it, I can leave it behind me and go back to the starting point to start building again. This is the way to go if I want to live happily because satisfaction isn’t in reaching the finish line but in constantly being in the race, building and dancing with fear and uncertainty then going back to do it again.
Now, I can go forward through the blocks to change the world for the sake of changing the world, not for the sake of winning or bragging.
Make peace with your inner beast. Don’t fight it. Welcome it. Hear it. Then go do the work. Live the thrill. And never give up your endeavor to change the world.
