Resistance, that self-generated, self-perpetuated engine of destruction that arises from within and will do anything to keep us from doing our work, is experienced as fear, fueled by fear, and proportional to fear [ See blog, The Book ].
It's also directly proportional to love.
Our fear, therefore, of taking on some task that's outside our comfort zone and makes us vulnerable, is an indicator.
When we're feeling massive resistance, and the voice of the lizard is shouting in our ear [See blog, The Lizard Brain, Parts I-VII], it also means there's tremendous love there, too.
If we didn't love that creative endeavor that's terrifying us, we wouldn't feel anything.
The opposite of love isn't hatred; it's indifference.
We can therefore let our fear guide us, like the magnetized needle of a compass, to that artistic calling or action that we must follow before all others.
The more important that call or action is to our soul's evolution, the more resistance we're going to feel, to pursuing it.
The more fear we have of embarking upon a specific artistic or creative enterprise, the more certain we can be that it's important to us, to the epicenter of our being, to the growth and evolution of our soul.
The more scared we are of venturing upon that creative work or calling, the more sure we can be that we have to take it on, as an assignment that makes us stretch, that bears us into uncharted waters.
If therefore, we're paralyzed with fear of a certain calling, artistic action, or creative work, it's a good sign.
It shows us what we have to do.
An amateur believes he must first over come his fear before he can do his work; a pro knows that the fear associated with a new task or project can never be overcome, that there's no such thing as a dread-free artist or fearless warrior [See blog, Sight Reading, Part II].
A pro also knows that once he forces himself forward in spite of his terror and gets out and into the action, his fear will receded, and he'll be okay [See blog, The Book].