Confronting Fear

It isn’t always comfortable or easy – carrying your fear around with you on your great and ambitious road trip, I mean – but it is always worth it, because if you can’t learn to comfortably travel alongside your fear, then you will never be able to go anywhere interesting or do anything interesting.
~ Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic.

I have a hard time with fear, mostly because I have a lot of it. I find that unfortunate as I believe it is one of the two primary emotions. And if I am fearful, if the majority of my thoughts are fear based, how much capacity can I have for love, the other primary emotion? Is a person’s emotional capacity finite? Does a person who feels a large amount a fear handicap themselves from being able to feel large amounts of love?

I want the answer to that question to be “no.” I want to sit here (in fact I have already tried) and say that I think that a fearful person is as capable as a less fearful person to express, receive, and process love based thoughts. And the best that I can do is to acknowledge that it might be true for some people.

It is not true for me.

I do not travel comfortably along side my fear. We are not road dogs. We do not have a working relationship. The secondary feelings my fear produces are not helpful. It does not energize, motivate, provide productive adrenaline, or excite. My fear is in no way functional.

I can recognize fear when it presents itself in the “normal” ways in response to the “normal” things I am afraid of. That is typical fear and, for me, falls more into the instinctual “fight, flight, or freeze” dynamic that I think is normal and appropriate for most people. It is the less obvious instances that create journey difficulties. In those situations, I am learning to recognize when fear is the dominate force. If I am feeling overwhelmed, indecisive, melancholy, or distracted, I am more than likely operating in fear. Unfortunately in these nuanced situations, I am still only able to assess this truth outside of the moment, after behaviors have been decided and choices made. Not ideal.

But I think I have discovered a strategy that may help in becoming less fearful – at least for me. Funny thing about it, it’s super scary. Let’s see if I can coherently walk you through my thought process…

Shame derives its power from being unspeakable.
~ Brene Brown, Daring Greatly

In all the things that Brene has ever said or written, this one point has resonated with me the most. I have found it to be 100% true and I have successfully employed it a number of times. My ability to handle shame laden feelings has become quite proficient if I do say so myself.

In Brene’s research on shame, she has created a definition that I think works: Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.

She more simply states it this way – Shame is the fear of disconnection.

So if shame is the fear of disconnection, then I can deduce that shame belongs to the primary fear and not the primary love. And if speaking shame works to neutralize it, then maybe the root emotion fear has the same Achilles’ heel.

*Note – I originally wrote “dispels” instead of “neutralize.” I think recording that edit is important. Shame, fear, are never dispelled. They always exists somewhere in some form. It is unrealistic for me to set the goal as “I will never be fearful.” I do not need to find a way to make fear nonexistent. I need to find a way to remove its influence in my decision making. The better goal for me is to transform fear into a decision neutral force.

In considering this thought it occurs to me that fear rarely gets named or called out. We hear the questions “are you okay,” “what’s wrong,” “is everything alright” and the like. What if the question was, “What are you afraid of right now?”

In considering areas of my life where I know I need improvement, time management is a big one and has been for quite a while. I sat with that one this morning and couched the idea in the new “what are you afraid of” strategy. The issue sprung open like seedling that was just looking for the right path to the surface. The obstacles were obvious. I suck at time management because I am afraid of choosing the right priorities. I am afraid when I do choose, I will execute the choice poorly. I am afraid that my choices will inadvertently reveal some actual truth or misconstrued truth about me that cause others to feel negatively about me. I am afraid that I will fail in following my schedule and appear incapable, undisciplined, lazy.

That’s a lot of bullshit going on when all we are talking about is taking a pencil to my calendar and deciding whether I want to put my gym hour at 0800 or not.

Let me say that to myself again – all we are talking about is where to put my gym hour, in pencil.

Let me say that again – a penciled in gym hour creates fear that I will be unloved, judged, disconnected.

Seriously? AYFKM?

And now the time blocked doesn’t seem so scary.

Understand I am not sitting here feeling a rush of “Tada!” I understand that this is just one thing and it feels successful right now. It has also taken about 72 hours of occasional idea rolling and three solid hours of Thinking Chair sitting to deduce that I will not lose the love of my life, my family, and my friends if I pencil in the gym on my calendar. That’s not exactly efficient. But it is a start. It is a step. This morning, I’ll count it a win.

Unused Creativity is Not Benign

Unused creativity is not benign. It metastasizes. It turns into grief, rage, sorrow, shame. ~ Brene Brown

I am fighting the urge to close the laptop and do something – anything else. It’s not that I don’t want to write; I absolutely do. I am just not sure what I want to say. That’s not accurate. It would be more honest to say I want to write all the things, say all the things, do all the things, and catch up on the every minute of time I have ever wasted before I have to wake the house up in an hour.

Just for clarity, that’s impossible. Because it is impossible, I have the overwhelming urge to just throw up my hands and do nothing – again. Never mind the ridiculousness of the expectation.

Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the intersection of Doubt and Sabotage. It’s a seedy little part of town where no one like to be seen so there’s a quick little cut through to Keeping up Appearances. The shops there are cute but the food is horrible.

There’s is also a pretty good bit of self talk going on that says “FFS, are we really talking about this – again? You are seriously starting to sound like a hack. For over 30 years you have put words on paper, lose consistency, talk about lost consistency, put words on paper – wash, rinse, repeat. Same with running. Same with food. Same with the gym life. Same with your housekeeping. Same with time management. Same with your parenting. Same with your ability to maintain relationship. I am noticing a pattern here and Ape, the verdict is you just suck.”

If you are thinking that’s a little harsh, you’d be right. If you’re thinking it’s a bit overwhelming, you’d be right again. If you think I am unusual in this assault on myself because you yourself have never had thoughts like this, that’s where you’d miss the mark.  This kind of asinine self talk is more common than you think.

So I am here again. Talking about it again.

About a year ago I discovered Gary Vaynerchuck. For those of you familiar, yes, I know I’m late. For those of you that don’t, might I suggest him. While I am not actively attempting to build an empire, Gary’s content regularly resonates. I have found quite a few parallels between growing as a business and as a person. The most recent example has been between Brene’s work on shame and Gary’s suggestion that documentation is just as powerful as creation.

Brene ~

You either walk into your story and own your truth, or you live outside of your story, hustling for your worthiness…Our brains are hardwired to protect and that often means wanting to run or fight. At work that can look like rationalizing, hiding out, and/or blaming others…The most difficult part of our stories is often what we bring to them—what we make up about who we are and how we are perceived by others. Yes, maybe we failed or screwed up a project, but what makes that story so painful is what we tell ourselves about our own self-worth and value.

Owning our stories means acknowledging our feelings and wrestling with the hard emotions—our fear, anger, aggression, shame, and blame. This isn’t easy, but the alternative—denying our stories and disengaging from emotion—means choosing to live our entire lives in the dark. It means no accountability, no learning, no growth.

Gary ~

Documenting your journey versus creating an image of yourself is the difference between saying “You should…” versus “my intuition says…” Get it? It changes everything. I believe that the people who are willing to discuss their journeys instead of trying to front themselves as the “next big thing” are going to win…just start talking about the things most important to you. Because in the end, the creative (or how “beautiful” someone thinks your content is) is going to be subjective. What’s not subjective is the fact that you need to start putting yourself out there and keep swinging.

Starting is the most important part and the biggest hurdle that most people are facing. They’re pondering and strategizing instead of making. They’re debating what’s going to happen when they haven’t even looked at what’s in front of them.

Therein lies a pretty solid road map for avoiding the traffic jam at that Doubt and Sabotage intersection. And that’s all I really need. The truth is most of my journey is going to have to go through that intersection – avoiding it is damn near impossible. Going through it is fine – getting hung up there is the killer.

Interestingly enough another thought just occurred to me – getting hung up there is a killer. That’s what I tell myself. But that’s not really true either. It’s not a killer…I’m still here. And so are you.

Appropriate and Acceptable

Can I be real a second?
For just a millisecond?
Let down my guard and tell the people how I feel a second?
Now I’m the model of a modern major general
The venerated Virginian veteran whose men are all
Lining up, to put me up on a pedestal
Writin’ letters to relatives
Embellishin’ my elegance and eloquence
But the elephant is in the room
The truth is in ya face when ya hear the British cannons go…
Boom!
~ A very frustrated George Washington as written by Lin-Manuel Miranda

I’m not even going to discuss Hamilton right now. It is pure genius and folks will either listen or they won’t, hear it or they won’t, get it or they won’t. I don’t really have that in me right this second.

I don’t really have a whole lot of anything in me right this second and it’s getting a bit tiresome.

Let me be real a second. I get encouraged to write on a regular basis by folks who genuinely enjoy what I have to say. There’s like six of y’all and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. And if it were only you half dozen or so for the rest of my life, I would like to think I would keep pushing publish. I would like to think I would still fancy myself a writer.

I don’t feel like a writer much of the time and I am pretty sure that’s because I approach this whole thing all wrong. I have this idea about what it is supposed to look like. I am supposed to have a guided topic. This blog space is supposed to be more cohesive. I am supposed to have a plan. I am supposed to, supposed to, supposed to.

And it I haven’t checked all the “supposed to” blocks, well, then…

And I am definitely not supposed to get onto this super public space and just let my guard down. It is indulgent and basic to be in a public setting – even if it’s just the six of us – and have the audacity to believe that these nouns and verbs, my nouns and verbs, are any more legitimate or time worthy than anyone else’s. That’s next level arrogance and who am I really to think that I have the right?

So, I go back to being small. I try to do the things on my list, the things that make me feel real, but in an “appropriate” way. Seriously, even as I am typing that I don’t even know what the hell that means. You are talking to a person that has a hard time cleaning the house if the radio isn’t super loud, who has a hard time psyching herself up for a run if she can’t go fast(ish) for a billion miles, who is 41 years old and is fixing to get married in a white dress to the hottest man she has ever met with a wedding suitable for a 25 year old blusher. My life isn’t small. I don’t live there. It isn’t who I am. It isn’t who my family is. We have a reoccurring joke about our individual and collective extraness. But I am a person who is still ridiculously and frustratingly aware of what other people think.

Yeah, don’t say it. I already know. You aren’t supposed to care about what other people think – especially those who, in the big picture, have opinions that don’t matter. I get it. I also know that chocolate pudding and whipped cream for lunch isn’t a healthy option, but you can bet your ass I get down with that too.

It has just struck me as funny that I have been in this situation bunches before. You probably have too. It isn’t a writer issue, it’s a whatever part of you is important issue.

The mommy cartel is a fierce one. Do you work, stay home, vaccinate, homeschool, engage in sports, pay for piano, buy the dance costume, travel with the team, fix organic snacks, limit screen time, post pictures on social media, co-sleep, spank, entertain Santa Claus, buy Lucky Charms, volunteer as room mom, schedule playdates, breastfeed, understand the progressive parenting strategies, helicopter, tiger, free range, hide in the bathroom with a great bottle of Malbec…. are you an appropriate, acceptable mom?

Life partner? Do you have date night, authentic conversations about your feelings, too much sex, no sex, joint facebooks, separate friends, independent bank accounts, a five year plan, the same last name, never go to bed angry, the same waistline when you met, regular phone calls with their families, close the door to the bathroom, sexy texts, copious amounts of quality time, detailed coparenting strategies, lady in the street, freak in the bed, dinner on the table, 50/50 household responsibilities, gender roles, traditional home, hide in the bathroom with a great bottle of Malbec…. are you an appropriate, acceptable life partner?

Professional? Do you have the right credentials, love your job, tolerate your coworkers, participate in office fun, voice your opinion in meetings, reinvent yourself to fit the culture, considered assertive, aggressive, overly ambitions, qualified, on your way up, watching the clock, moving into a new field, living your passion, selling out to the grind, hiding out in the bathroom with a great bottle of Malbec… are you an appropriate, acceptable professional?

If you couldn’t tell, all this “appropriate” and “acceptable” juggling always leads me to hiding in a bathroom with a great bottle of Malbec. People aren’t supposed to live that way.

I am not supposed to live that way.

So here is the habit I am going to attempt to put into practice – just writing the shit and letting the letters fall where they may. Maybe that appeals to my six folks, maybe it gains more, maybe I end up pushing publish for no one other than myself. Whatever the outcome is, I have at least identified the elephant in my bathroom. And look – now there is more room for you to share that bottle of wine…

Daring Greatly and Running with the Wolves

I have become the kind of person that reads multiple books at a time. There was a period in my life where I would have believed this to be unthinkable. How do you pick which one to read and when? How will you keep track of what you are doing? How will you ever finish anything if you are doing multiple things?

The first two questions sorted themselves out so easily I am almost embarrassed that they were even concerns. That last one? Now that one is valid. I do find myself leaving books unfinished. For instance, I started reading One Amazing Thing by Chitra Divakaruni over a year ago. It’s not a hard read, at 219 pages it isn’t long, and the story is pretty great. I just finished it last night. However, I have found that I don’t waste a lot of time on books that don’t interest me. In the days of “one book, then another” it was common for me to slog through a work I found less than interesting simply because I already felt pot committed. I felt compelled to close the loop before I moved on. Now, I just don’t pick it back up.

However, the danger of getting distracted is real. Daring Greatly by Brene Brown has easily been one of the most effective books I have ever picked up. I have gone back to this one again and again. I have yet to finish it. I am working on resolving that now.

My multiple reading habit is not what I sat down to tell you about. It just kinda happened that way. I sat down to tell you that I am reading Women who Run with the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I can’t say if it’s the work or the timing, but it has catapulted itself into the top 5 of books that have rocked me at my core. I was only on page eight when I encountered

Wild Woman is the health of all women. Without her, women’s psychology makes no sense…She is what she is and she is whole.

She canalizes through women. If they are suppressed, she struggles upward. If women are free, she is free. Fortunately, no matter how many times she is pushed down, she bounds up again. No matter how many times she is forbidden, quelled, cut back, diluted, tortured, touted as unsafe, dangerous, mad, and other derogations, she emanates upward in women, so that even the most quiet, even the most restrained woman has a secret life, with secret thoughts and secret feelings which are lush and wild, that is, natural. Even the most captured woman guards the place of the wildish self, for she knows intuitively that someday there will be a loophole, an aperture, a chance, and she will hightail it to escape.

And the whole damn thing just gets better and better.

One of the clearest insights for me, so far, pertains to creativity. I won’t be coy.

Writing lately has been rough. Because it has been hard and I have the ability to distract myself with so many other things, I haven’t done a lot of it. As that creativity gets squashed, it becomes harder to find my center. The weather doesn’t help. I have gotten lost.

You can call it writer’s block. I don’t. I believe in writer’s refusal and I have indulged in a good bit of that lately. I needed focus. I needed something small, manageable, measurable, interesting, productive. I needed a blog series. Wolves is the perfect book for that – later. It is too much right now. I am still curled up with it in my private brain. But the idea is still a good one. Daring Greatly could work.

I sat in the Thinking Chair and opened up my copy. Incidentally, it looks like it has been read a hundred times up to page 157 and exactly zero times anywhere after that. It’ll indeed work.

Again, I don’t know if it’s her work or my personal headspace, but the book feels different in my hands from all the other times before. Instead of starving for the words, looking for some sense of explanation for what goes on in my brain, there is encouragement, understanding, and comfort. There is a sense of not just seeing the map, but knowing you have already, to some degree, successfully traveled this way before.

I’m sitting down with Brene again. I am gonna share those Thinking Chair moments here. If you aren’t familiar with her, may I suggest you find 20 minutes and 13 seconds for this awesomeness.

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