Into the Chrysalis: Facing Fear (Offering 7.3)
How opportunity awakened a fear I never saw coming.
This offering in Phase VI: Into the Chrysalis, melts into fearāof failure, of success, of being truly seenāand the power of facing fear with vulnerability as a guide.
(If youāre new to Eclosion: An Artistās Path to Power and Peace, start at the beginning. Or visit my Memoir Hub for a full table of contents with links.)
Facing Fear
Invite your fear along for the ride. Just donāt let it drive.
~Elizabeth Gilbert
So often, things are not what they seem. What I thought was this unlovable darkness inside of me, something I was unable to look at, was simply an aspect of myself that needed love, tenderness, and care.
This realization was profound. And so important because I had layers upon layers of fear and old stories within. Knowing what was underneath that fear gave me the courage to look inside again and again. Itās a practice I continue to this day because, let me tell you, fear knows no bounds.
As I worked to bring forth Rise Above Plastics: The Butterfly Effect, I was so afraid. This was the first large-scale project Iād done as a sober person. And I was newly soberāraw and vulnerable, just like those baby birds. I no longer had my familiar coping mechanisms. As unhealthy as they were, drugs and alcohol had gotten me this far. Now I was adrift.
The Butterfly Effect was an entirely new way of making art for me, a hanging installation with hundreds of individual pieces. The design emerged almost on its own, a simple following of curiosity and exploration. I certainly did not set out to make art that was hanging from strings.
Jennifer and I knew we wanted to create art about plasticsāa piece that would be displayed in public and made by hundreds of people. First, we decided on the materials; upcycled Capri Sun drink pouches. We chose this material because they are prolific in kidsā lunches and are very difficult to recycle. We then chose to have participants make butterflies from the pouches, thinking of the butterflyās relation to chaos theory, how the butterfly is such a great representation of change, and how our individual choices can have power in the world.
When we started looking at where we might install the piece, I envisioned a wall-mounted piece, where participants would make butterflies, and we would then create a fixed wall installation with those butterflies. Then, the Washington Center for the Performing Arts offered the use of the atrium in their four-story theater to display our art piece. This incredible opportunity came with a limitation: only a hanging piece would do. I didnāt know how to do this, but as we worked with Avanti High School students to develop the project concept and art design, the design seemed to come alive; to unfold like a butterfly from a chrysalis.
Wanting to keep it as simple as possible, I suggested to the group that we might be able to suspend the butterflies in a way that made the image of the earth. I thought I could figure out how to do that. But then Jennifer asked, āCould we make a person?ā Inside I was thinking, Are you crazy? Thereās nothing more complicated to create than the human body! What I said was, āWell, I donāt know about that, but letās explore it.ā
Now that the idea was out there, it wasnāt going to quietly move on, even if I thought I wanted to keep this simple. The muse was in the room, and she was breathing inspiration into us. I could feel it in the electrifying shivers racing down my spine as a student gave voice to this inspiration, āWhat if the person was inside of a chrysalis?ā And then another wondered aloud, āWhat if there were butterflies of change flying out of her heart?ā And even though I had absolutely no idea how to manifest this, I knew that we were somehow going to create an installation, made of suspended butterflies, in the likeness of a person inside of a chrysalis, with butterflies flying from their heart. The idea was simply too beautiful, too profound, to leave in the thought chrysalis. It wanted to come into the world.
I had never encountered an artwork like the one blossoming within my heart and mind. As I engaged with the materials, transforming a mere thought into a tangible form, I infused the piece with increasing vitality. This exploration awakened my curiosity and provided a vital focal point, guiding me through those challenging days of early sobriety.
As the installation date drew near, fear began to surface in new ways. I had an idea and a design, but it was all theory. The truth is, I had no real idea how I was going to make it. I became more and more afraid that the projectāand therefore Iāwould fail.
Instead of holding this fear inside as I had done for much of my life, I opened myself up and shared my fear with a few trusted people in my recovery community. As I talked, I felt like those baby birdsānaked, helpless. Tears poured down my cheeks, certain on some level that I would be rejected for being vulnerable, for not knowing what I was doing, even though I chose those people specifically because they understood the courage needed to face yourself honestly.
Thankfully, I chose well and was met with compassion, and with a surprising challenge. One friend suggested that what I was experiencing might not be fear of failure at all, but rather, fear of success.
You see, when we fail, nothing really changes. Look at a baby learning to walk; they fall again and again. When they fail, they just go back to crawling until finally, after failure upon failure, they succeed. If youāre a parent, you know that when your baby finally learns to walk, everything changes. Their world opens up, and you glow with pride and joy even as you realize the new challenges ahead.
We are born resilient. Failure, while not fun, is a natural and necessary part of our growth and development. As an artist, I made a lot of ugly paintings before I was able to create work I truly loved. Failure can be painful, even devastating when met with shame. Still, it is essential.
But to succeed? To succeed as an artist or a leader? That is a game changer. Success opens the world in ways we never knew were possible, and we realize thereās no going back. We have a new way of being in the world.
When we succeed at something our heart and soul are meant to do, it is a recognitionāto the earth, to those around us, to ourselvesāthat yes, we can do this. We can succeed. We can be part of the solution. And that is big.
As artistsāor really, as anyone striving to shape the world for the betterāsharing our work with others requires real vulnerability. And that is not easy. At least not for me. If thereās one thing I really donāt like, itās being vulnerable. And if thereās one thing that has allowed me to grow more than any otherā¦itās being vulnerable.
All of the things in my life that I was most afraid of doing were the ones I most needed to do. Facing these fears allows me to become the most authentic version of myself. Success can be daunting and transformative. It forces us to step into new roles, face new challenges, and embrace further growth. The fear of success often stems from the unknown, from stepping into a larger arena where more is expected of us. But just like those baby birds, once we take that leap and spread our wings, we find that we can soar.
What fear is holding you backāand what would it look like to invite that fear along for the ride?