You know it, don’t you? You feel the pull towards change. You know it’s coming. You know it’s necessary. But still, somehow, you resist. You’re waiting until you no longer feel the fear before you do it. You’re waiting for safety and for certainty.
Change is hard. And you think you’re alone in this. But you’re not alone.
You may at times be physically isolated from others. You may also at times feel like the people you’re with don’t understand you, or see you through a predetermined filter, of have made up their minds about you before they really know you. You may even feel like you’re the only one on earth who thinks and feels like you do.
But that’s a lie.
Who is lying? Who is this voice who constantly narrates all your brave little efforts to break free with commentary about how alone you are, about how broken and faulty you are, about how nobody else feels this way, about how change is dangerous and risky and not worth it? Who is that, exactly? That voice in your head?
Is it really you? Is it really true?
Here is some truth for you, my darling.
You, my love, are in charge of a small tribe of little orphan “feelings”. They have no mama, they have no papa, they have only you. And this little gang of orphan feelings at all times and in all places want to go home. They do not know where home is, in fact, the place they yearn to go to be safe only exists in their imagination. They don’t know if it’s a place in the past, or a place in the future. Your orphan feelings only know and believe with all their little beings that one place they will feel safe IS NOT HERE.
And so, as you drive your emotional minivan along the road of life, your gang of feelings in the back are constantly whining to be taken anywhere but where you’re going, because for them, fear of being hurt, being abandoned, being tested or challenged, being isolated or starved or alone in the dark is their overwhelming motivation.
Whenever you write something, play something, start something, end something, meet someone, leave someone, climb something, come down from something, in fact, whenever you do something which isn’t staying perfectly still and doing exactly what you’ve always done before, the chorus from the back of the minivan begins.
“Argh! What are you doing?!”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Why are you going there?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Why are you telling them these things?”
“Who do you think you are?”
“STOP! You’re scaring us! It’s too much! You’ll fail! You’ll be judged! We’ll all be killed!!! Argh!!!!”
Poor little babies. All frightened you’ll be hurt, they’ll be hurt, again. Scared that if you tell your truth, if you open your heart, if you stay or leave or grow or simplify or add complexity, if you take responsibility or defer responsibility, if you write or dance or stand up or walk away or do ANYTHING other than breathe that they will be exposed to harm or judgement or to the possibility of failure. Those poor little honeys, all buckled in back there with no way of making you stop scaring them half to death, except to nag and barrage you with constant begging and pleading to never go anywhere, never do anything, never change, never risk, never grow.
But you know. These fears have been deciding your direction for a long time now. You’ve been obeying those voices and listening to the fear for so long, you think that’s your own voice, don’t you?
But it’s not your voice. Your voice is wise. Your voice is courageous. Your voice is confident, and still, and certain. Turn, place your finger on your lips and gently tell those frightened babies, “Shhhhhhh……..”
Hear it? Your intuition. Your inner compass. Your gut. Your know-er. She’s telling you where you need to head to. She’s showing you the road ahead. She’s giving you the co-ordinates, and all the other information you need to move ahead, isn’t she?
Mama, now, get back there and check your little feelings are strapped in well. Give them all a sweet kiss on their forehead, and a warm, smiley hug. And you say, hold on little fear, little feeling, don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve got this, and I’ve got you. Everything is going to be all right.
And then mama, you get back behind the wheel, steer this puppy back on the road, and hit the gas. Out there? That’s where you are headed. That’s where you’re going. Your fears are coming too, because they are a part of you, but you’re in charge, you’re the mama, you’re the peace-maker, the comforter, and the nourisher of your soul.
And you have places to go.
So honey, what do you think?
I’ll see you on the highway.