Let me go ahead and put this out there (already knowing that it is going to sound some kind of way). There’s not a whole lot about me I would change. I mean certainly, I think I can always improve. There’s always a faster time, a better way, more knowledge, more ability. There’s always the opportunity to be better today that you were yesterday and even better tomorrow.
But if we are talking about things I would fundamentally change about myself, there’s not a bunch going on there.
Save one I suppose.
I really hate being afraid.
The problem is I am afraid most of the time. Now don’t get me wrong. We aren’t talking about Freddy Krueger afraid. I’m talking about pit of the stomach nag, fuzzy head afraid. That fear you get when you think you may have said the wrong thing, worn the wrong shirt, picked the wrong restaurant, gave the wrong advice, picked the wrong stratedgy…just being wrong in a way that affects other people period. That kind of afraid.
And I stay that way pretty regular. Just today I bought a few gifts and looked for a few more. Petrified. What if I picked the wrong thing, wrong size, wrong store, wrong price? What if they just generally don’t like it? And it was damn near paralyzing. In fact, it was so overwhelming that I damn near went back and returned everything 45 minutes after purchasing them. Ridiculous, I am aware.
I’m a little afraid right now because this little collection of words isn’t doing what I want it to. Or maybe it is. But I really think not. They feel corny and indulgent. damn near pointless.
But I am going to keep putting the nouns and verbs together because behind the fear is something else. There is a nagging sensation that two things are happening…
One, I am working through and being honest with the fact that I do get scared an awful lot. That’s a big one. It isn’t any part of the person I want to be. It is the one thing that I know limits every other wonderful thing in my life. Fear, at least the kind that I am talking about right now, does nothing to promote my best life. It isn’t keeping me safe from bodily harm. It isn’t protecting others. It isn’t shielding doom. It is just making shit that doesn’t need to be hard, really fucking hard.
This fear makes me feel less than. It makes me behave and accomplish less than. It really makes me want to crawl back in the bed right now so that I don’t do anything else today that might have consequences that are a little uncomfortable.
I actually did just crawl back in the bed just then and take a nap. It was wonderful. The most amazing thing is not that I actually got to take a nap (as bizarre as that is) but that I actually still remember what the second thing was!
Two, as in most things that I chew up in my brain, I don’t think it’s just me. While I am sure there are boatloads of people who do not experience this type of fear regularly, I am also sure there are a bunch of us running around with this characteristic that we just never talk about. In fact, I am also willing to bet these are people who, if they told you, you would be shocked.
And, because it does me good to keep processing through in a way that puts words in the universe, I am continuing to work through it on this keyboard.
The truth is I feel much better now. That nap was pretty amazing. Maybe more sleep is the answer. More probable is the idea that just listening to my body is the best answer. It just so happens that in this instance my body said nap and I was able to comply.
But that isn’t always the case. I can’t always do what I want to do; or at least not without some unpleasant consequences. So the fearful living at some point has to give. But, that didn’t develop over night so I am certain it won’t dissolve itself in one journal entry or one nap…but it sure has been a start.