Something Wicked This Way Comes

Here’s what I’m deeply, mortally afraid of:

1.     Birds

2.     Disappointing people

That’s it.

Really.

Surviving abuse, life threatening illness, extended unemployment, infertility, and toxic work environments tends to put fear and worry into distinct perspective.  But flashing my trauma and backing away would be a shit thing for me to do, especially since there are other things that do scare me:

            Leaving a cushy corporate job scared me

            Firing a client scared me

            Being vulnerable on the internet scared me

            Owning a small business constantly scares me

            … honestly, this list changes every day

There is a difference between my pathological fears (e.g., birds) and my day-to-day worries.  Those worries may momentarily stop me in my tracks.  They manifest from my Imposter Inner Voice (remember her?) and my comfort zone joining villainous forces to keep me in the known.  Once I recognize that, I’m able to pause, strategize, and conquer.  If I can push through the immediate anxiety aftermath (did I do the right thing?), I get to assess my growth. 

Does doing the scary thing always result in positive outcomes?  Nope.  Do I occasionally have to follow up one scary leap with another in order to course-correct?  Yep.  And here’s the thing:  my fear of failing is greater than actually failing.  I’m better off for having tried.  I owe it to myself- and no one else- to try.  And so do you.

I hear this from clients all the time, “If I was brave enough I would…” write my book, leave my job, end a relationship, say yes to a relationship, move cities… the list goes on so take your pick.

What’s on your mind that you want, but you’re too scared to do?

What’s the worst thing that could happen if you tried?

What’s within your control to preempt that worst-case from happening?

What can you rehearse to stack the deck in your favor? 

If I asked you to be brave today, what’s one scary thing you would do for you?

I promise to fight with you, run beside you, or freeze with you until you regroup.

Unless there are birds.  Then I’ll send a worthy substitute and hope that I haven’t disappointed you too much.