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A Strategy for Overcoming Fear
This week’s post features a video that I initially didn’t equate with getting out of fear. In fact, I originally titled the video From Self Absorbed to Self Empowered. But after writing last week’s post, A New Way to Look at Fear, I realized that this video is actually a demonstration of one of the best ways I know to get out of fear. It’s simple, easy and powerful. I hope you enjoy it. And I encourage you try it for yourself. Let me know how it goes, will you?
Here’s what I said in the video:
One of the things I’ve found that helps me get out of my self – meaning out of my head – out of my self-absorbed preoccupation with worrying about how I look, how I come across, whether or not I can do something is to think about what I want to experience.
So one day I was playing with this affirmation or intention of what it was that I wanted. It started with “Let me see love.” Wouldn’t that be great to see love everywhere you look? That if even when the face of things don’t seem very lovely that I could see love.
Then I thought what would be even better is if I could feel love. So I could say “Let me feel love.” And how great is that? That I could relax in this comfort and feeling of just love everywhere.
And then I thought, “Well, how about if I give love? So let me give love.” How much better would that be because if I’m giving love, surely I’m feeling it! And if I’m feeling it, surely I’m seeing it.
And then it hit me that what I really want more than anything else is to be love. Let me BE love.
And I think with that intention, there’s probably nothing I can’t do.
For more on overcoming fear:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be 
Just Let it Rip – The Problem with Polished
Photograph by Fritz Langmann from http://www.dreamstime.com/free-stock-image-young-woman-appalled-rimagefree1828966-resi3423159.
A New Way to Look at Fear
I went up to Prescott, AZ over Labor Day weekend with my mother and my young daughter. There was an art festival in the town square, so the place was dotted with people and their dogs, meandering from booth to booth, admiring the wares and taking it all in. White tents and tall, willowy trees sheltered artisans and their customers from the bright sun and intense heat.
There was a lot of jewelry, handmade signs with clever quotes, t-shirts for people and their dogs, hand crafted furniture, blankets, tablecloths, framed photography, bird houses. If you could think of something that could be artfully designed and hand crafted, there was probably a booth for it in the Prescott square last weekend.
Some of my favorite booths were the ones with food in them. Freshly dipped caramel apples rolled in peanuts or toffee, kettle corn popped in large copper drums, homemade tamales, chocolate dipped cheesecake. And, oh, the best freshly squeezed lemonade ever, made with generous portions of sugar and large juicy lemons whose rinds floated in the clear plastic dispensers.
I was standing in a rather long line for one of those lemonades when I became acutely aware of the presence of swarms of bees flying around me and everyone else, hovering over people’s cups and food, and even landing on shoulders, arms, and clothing. People squirmed in their shoes, swatted them away, and some ran out of the line altogether.
Look at all these bees! I said to my daughter. A low, gravelly voice from behind me rose above the clamor. “Don’t be afraid,” it said.
I turned to see an older man with a closely trimmed white beard and long white eyebrows. His eyes twinkled and dimples appeared below his cheeks as he smiled. I looked at him and smiled back. “Don’t be afraid,” he continued. “Bees only sting when they sense fear.” He rocked back and forth on his feet, with his fingers wrapped comfortably aroun
d the straps of his faded overalls. “It’s true!” He insisted.
Hmmn. What an interesting thought. Is it true? I don’t know. I wouldn’t doubt it.
It got me thinking about fear in general, and the correlation it often has with unfortunate circumstances. Fear is widely considered to be the effect of an unpleasant and often painful stimulus. But the cause?
Could it be true that fear itself brings about some of the unfortunate circumstances that we are often most afraid of?
I think it’s entirely possible. When we are afraid, we get consumed with thinking we need to protect ourselves, have the last word, save face. We become far more occupied with getting than giving. A fearful response is often an overly aggressive one – one that can create more problems than it solves, and one that might otherwise be deemed as unnecessary. We say and do things we later regret. We can panic and engage in irrational and even hurtful behavior. And we cut ourselves off from the wisdom and insights we would otherwise be able to tap to constructively resolve our differences and creatively rise up to our challenges. Our solutions tend to be half baked and often unsatisfying – as well as short lived.
But how do you override that somewhat instinctive and often knee jerk, fear filled response to what you believe could hurt you?
“Don’t be afraid,” the white haired man said. Easy for you to say, buddy. He obviously sees bees differently than I do, or at least have in the past.
And maybe that’s the answer. Maybe it’s about learning to see things differently. Maybe it’s about questioning what we’ve come to believe and learning a different response – one that is more grounded, centered, and thoughtful. Perhaps it’s about trying something we’ve never had the presence of mind to consider.
The woman behind the counter handed me my lemonade and a single bee came along for the ride. It followed us throughout the square, from booth to booth, hovering around the large waxy cup that contained the sweet, refreshing liquid we waited in line for over ten minutes to receive. At one point, it landed on my shirt sleeve. I felt my blood pressure rise and took a deep breath. What if I get stung? I tried not to think about it. It flew away and came back a few seconds later.
We couldn’t help ourselves. We shooed it away with our napkins. It kept flying back. We tried hard to stay brave and calm, but we kept our napkins unfurled and continued to flap them around whenever the bee got too close.
We made it home without any bee stings. But the wheels in my mind are still turning at the thought that perhaps there is a different response available in every fear filled situation – one that will gently reveal itself to us when we learn to reframe what we see in such a way that it is no longer a threat. Is it possible?
One thing is for sure: the next time I begin to feel that familiar rush of adrenaline, I’ll think back to that white-haired man in his frayed overalls, with a large grin on his face and a quiet wisdom in those sparkling eyes. “Don’t be afraid. They only sting when they sense fear.”
For more on Redefining Fear:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Finding Your Answer In the Midst of Chaos
Bee image by alle from BigstockPhoto.com.
An Easier Way to Find Your Way
Have you ever set a goal for yourself that left you feeling less than fulfilled when you actually achieved it?
Maybe it was a target you wanted to meet, a possession you longed to acquire, or a promotion you were hoping to receive. You kept your eye on the ball and hunkered down to do whatever it took to get there. When obstacles presented themselves, you busted through them and may have felt as though you were repeatedly banging your head against a wall. “The reward for your exhaustion would be the sweet taste of victory in the end,” you may have told yourself.
I did. And when I got to the top of the hill I was climbing I realized the mountain I was scaling was not mine, but someone else’s.
What if it didn’t have to be that hard?
Now, don’t get me wrong – I don’t expect to be carried around on a stretcher, nor would I want to be. But I do think it’s possible to enjoy the journey a little more. And if we didn’t insist on having to blaze the trail in front of us, we might find that off in the distance a lovely path is being revealed – if only we would stop long enough to pay attention.
When I take on new clients, they are often in the same state I have often found myself in. They have worked hard to get somewhere, but they know in their hearts there is something greater available to them. Perhaps they haven’t been getting the results they wanted, have been experiencing a great deal of stress or even burnout, or are just ready for a change. During times like these often the best thing we can do is not to speed up, but to slow down – way down.
If the path you’re running on isn’t getting you where you want to go, moving faster won’t do you any favors.
I have found over the years that the best leaders are not those who have all the answers, but rather those who ask the best questions. What are the possibilities? What are the opportunities? How are we uniquely positioned to make the most of them? In what ways can we leverage our strengths to rise up to our challenges? In asking such questions, these leaders bring to the surface answers, insights and knowledge people hold inside that allow great things to happen. Rather than imposing a vision on others, they allow it to develop collectively, with the knowledge that they can’t possibly see and accomplish everything singlehandedly.
Before these great leaders can do this for others, they must do it for themselves. So I challenge you (and myself as well) to focus on asking the important questions and to be still long enough to hear the answers.
In Native American cultures, young adults are sent on vision quests. These rituals involve sending the youth on a journey, packed with provisions that allow basic needs to be met. Instructions are simply to wander around and find a place that calls to them. Upon doing so, further direction is simply to sit and reflect. The belief behind this is that we do not necessarily need to actively find our vision. When we quiet ourselves and pay attention, our visions find us.
In our complex society, few of us have the time to go wander around the desert and sit for indefinite periods of time. So we need to make the time in our busy schedules to connect the dots. This may be a few minutes here and there. You may find yourself repeatedly daydreaming about something, or playfully entertaining an idea or possibility that will not allow itself to be dismissed.
These are critical pieces of information that, like pieces of a puzzle, will eventually come together to reveal a bigger picture. Pay attention to them, and do whatever is necessary to nurture and protect them. Capture these thoughts on paper or in your computer and add to them as new ideas continue to emerge. Some of these nuggets will become more valuable to you than others – like gold in the miner’s pan, they will begin to shine amongst the grains of sand.
Notice also the synchronicities that occur all around you that help make your visions real – chance encounters with people uniquely connected or qualified to help you, valuable information that effortlessly comes your way, and little serendipities that allow you to feel as though you are in the flow of something bigger than yourself. Chances are, you will be.
Enjoy the ride!
This article contains an exerpt from my new book The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be, available on Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com.
For more on Finding Your Way:
Deciphering Signs, Synchronicities and Meaningful Coincidences
In Search of Greatness: Finding Your Zone
Businessman picture by Nikola Hristovski from Dreamstime.com.
Jigsaw picture by Jasenka from Dreamstime.com.
Can You Take a Compliment?
Do you remember the last time someone gave you praise? Did you let their compliment land? Or did you feel the need to deflect it? This week’s video post was motivated by an observation I had about my own behavior and a surprising insight that came when I stopped to really think about it.
If you like it, pass it on. Tweet
Here’s what I said in the video:
I don’t deserve that. What’s this? This is SO not true. Oh, this isn’t for me – this is for her. What are you giving me this for? I don’t want that! I don’t deserve that.
You think I’m good? I’ll give you ten reasons why I’m not.
Do you have trouble taking a compliment? A lot of us do. You know, we were brought up to thinking that it’s not good to toot your own horn and that you shouldn’t draw attention to yourself. But the thing we don’t realize is that when we don’t take people’s compliments, we’re basically telling them that their opinions don’t matter. Telling them that what they think has little, if any, impact on us and that we really don’t care what they think. Most of us would hate to tell anybody that.
So, the next time someone gives you a compliment, realize, it’s a gift.
Good things are always coming your way. Are you willing to receive them?
Thumb photo by Craig Hill from Dreamstime.com.
Riding the Wave of Chaos
My kitchen looks like a bomb went off in it. Papers strewn over the counters amidst puddles of green smoothie remnants from this morning’s attempt to consume a healthy breakfast. A bottle of maple syrup with sticky liquid oozing from the cap into small droplets down the front of the label and onto the counter. Half eaten waffles on a paper plate sitting on the kitchen table. Last night’s dinner dishes still in the sink waiting for a bath.
School is back in session. No more lazy mornings letting the kids sleep in until they feel good and ready to emerge from their soft, cool sheets. Alarm clocks blazing. Pillows shielding their eyes from the sun as the cruel window shades open to the blinding light of the morning. ” Ten more minutes!”, they shout.
“Nope. Time to get up.”
I stumble into my home office to be greeted with a foul stench. One of the animals has found a convenient place to relieve herself. I locate the offending pile of poop on the floor right next to my hard drive. It is a bit runny. Probably from our cat, wildly jealous of the new kitten that has just learned to use the litter box the two of them will share (well, hopefully will share) at some point in the near future. I scoop the mess from the floor and carefully wipe down the cords, trying really hard not to hurl.
Lunches need to be prepared. Homework journals must be signed. Three kids need to be shuttled to two different schools. We have been catapulted back into a very segmented time regimen that we are just not quite in sync with yet.
8:03am. Time to pile into the car for the first trip out. We get halfway to our destination when my son realizes the report he has worked like a dog all weekend to complete is sitting in its shiny report binder on the coffee table. Cranking my steering wheel to make a U turn in heavy morning traffic, I can feel panic rising in my sweet young son. He knows he’ll be late on the first full week of school. His breathing is shallow. His shoulders are tight. His jaw is clenched.
I know that look. I’ve embodied that look. My heart goes out to him.
Where’s my coffee? I forgot to make myself a cup of coffee. I take a deep breath and try to calm my son. He doesn’t feel like chatting.
We ride in silence to the house. He springs from the car and bursts through the door with me on his heels. We are on a mission. We find the report and leap back into the car. When we reach the school, he slinks out, hangs his head and makes his way to class.
I breathe in and out. Gotta get home and shuttle the second group in now.
My daughter is sitting on the kitchen floor cleaning her white tennis shoes with a toothbrush. My son is at the computer playing his favorite video game. I silently pray that their backpacks are somewhere in the near vicinity, with all the important papers and folders inside. Fate smiles on me and they are good to go. My car drives on familiar tracks to their school, around the turnaround and through the drop off area. Hugs and kisses. The door closes. And I am free.
Except for the kitchen. And the fact that I have a meeting in thirty five minutes that I am not quite ready for.
WRITE! The voice inside my head is talking to me. WRITE NOW.
I think of the dishes. My hair needs brushing. And I’m not so sure about my wardrobe selection. I sit at the computer and place my hands on the keyboard. I begin to type.
What I realize now is that I have just stepped through chaos into a different zone. The wave came at me. It was high. It was strong. Powerful. But this morning I didn’t fight it. I let it take me for a ride. I remembered to breathe. And I’m still in the chaos.
I’ve had mornings like this where I ended up bruised and beaten, hurled onto the shore with arms flailing, trying to fight the wave and make everything happen the way I thought it should. I’ve crawled sputtering to the beach exhausted and worn out, all my energy spent rebelling against the unforeseen forces that thrust me unwillingly into chaos. But not today. Today, I feel good.
My heart goes out to my son. But I know that this is only one of a number of experiences he will have that will teach him something he’ll find useful at some point in his future. He may never realize how important it was or how it shaped him. He will likely have a few more of those mornings. And so will I. Gradually, he will make different choices. He will learn to breathe. He will learn to relax and take whatever comes to him with grace and determination. If he has enough of these experiences, he may even become unflappable.
Ride the wave. Even if it takes you under. You’ll come out on top eventually. Remember to breathe when you have the opportunity to come up for air.
And seize the moment to do whatever your gut tells you to. Even if at the time it seems like the craziest thing you could possibly think of.
My hair still needs brushing. But I’m more ready now for that morning meeting that I ever would have been if I hadn’t stopped to reflect, ponder, and WRITE.
The dishes will get done when it is time. The cat will poop where it will. And what I’m wearing isn’t nearly as important as how I feel. Hello new day. I’m here.
Today, I’m REALLY here.
For more on riding the wave of chaos:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Finding Your Answer In the Midst of Chaos
Wave picture by Kaz Sano from Dreamstime.com.
The Tyranny of Should: Chore vs. Choice
This morning as I reflected on the day ahead of me, I had an epiphany. I realized there is one word that has a way of sucking all the joy out of everything I do. And that word is SHOULD.
Let me explain. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been blessed with a number of ideas that landed gently at the edge of my awareness. They were accompanied by an electricity that made them glimmer and pique my curiosity. Some of those ideas were for articles, some for videos, and others for potential projects and other endeavors.
I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement as I pondered them. The feeling reminded me of dreams I had as a kid where I would find myself amidst piles of treasures, golden and shimmering. In those dreams, I often knew I would be waking soon and tried to scoop into my arms and shove into my pockets as much of those riches as I could, in an attempt to bring them back into my waking reality. Of course, I always awoke in my pajamas with no sign of the fortunes I was previously enjoying.
As an adult, I realize that we sometimes get glimpses of treasure in our waking hours too. These treasures are in the form of ideas that beckon to us. They get our hearts pumping and send a charge through our bodies. And if we don’t act on them, even in some small way, they evaporate into nothingness, just as the remnants of the dreams I had as a kid did upon waking.
So, I’ve learned to write these ideas down when I get them. And I know the importance of continuing to take action on them. Here’s the thing I discovered this morning:
That flame that was sparked when those ideas hit, and slowly stoked as I pondered and moved into them — that fire that was crackling with intensity and even beginning to blaze — was almost completely doused when I introduced the word “SHOULD” into its presence.
As soon as I felt the weight that came from believing I should write those articles, I no longer really wanted to. They were right up there with cleaning out my garage. When I’m shouldering the burden of should, all my procrastination mechanisms kick in. I’ll check my email, venture over to Twitter or Facebook, read some silly thing that has absolutely no value to me. And then I’ll really feel awful.
Just say the word “should” and feel your energy drop. “I should go to work today. I should eat healthier food. I should get moving on that project. I should return those calls. ” Even the things you want to do become tainted and heavy when the word “should” is involved.
I think the reason SHOULD kills our joy is that it turns what is really a CHOICE into a CHORE.
When something is a chore, you just want to get it over with. You’re checking the box and never really get into it. Maybe you’re thinking about all the things you’d rather be doing or how much you resent the fact that you “have to” do what you are doing in the moment. “Should” causes us to withhold that which gives us and everyone around us life. And that is really unfortunate for everyone involved.
Because if what you do touches the lives of other people (and pretty much everything we do does), they are cheated of having the full experience of you in the work. They get a mere shell of what would otherwise be filled with substance. And you miss out on the joy that comes with making the choice to fully participate in something that could very well transform you just by having done it.
What is it that you feel you should do today? Maybe it’s something you don’t think you really have a choice in, like showing up for work or paying your bills. OK. Let’s say you don’t really love your job right now. The more you tell yourself it’s something you have to do — the more you allow your should to make it a chore — the less of you you’ll bring to it, the more you will focus on all the things that bring you down, the less remarkable your work will be, the more out of touch you will be with what makes you happy, and the less likely you will be to position yourself for work that does bring you joy.
But let’s say instead of making it a chore, you make it a choice. You decide that whatever this day brings, you will find something to be happy about, something to be present for, something to light you up. Maybe it’s just giving someone a smile, or taking that extra minute to do something you’d like someone to do for you, or being grateful that you have a job. Maybe you take that onerous task you’ve been dreading and make a game of it. Try it and see what happens.
When you bring joy into your work, you’ll increasingly find that you have work that brings you joy. You’ll see things from new perspectives and make different connections and different choices. You’ll find ways to infuse more of what enriches you and those around you into whatever it is that you do.
As soon as I realized what my “should” was doing to that glimmering treasure trove of ideas, I took myself back to the delight I felt when I first pondered them — the energy that was in the air, the childlike wonder and curiosity. And I remembered how much I really want to do all those things. The chore went away and I reclaimed my choice. The heaviness dissipated and I began to feel free and inspired again. I sat at my computer and began to write the very article you are reading now, enjoying and savoring each moment of the experience.
And I made a pact with myself to be more aware of my “shoulds”. Because any chore can be transformed into choice when you trade the “should” for “want to”. And when you make the choice to bring who you really are into whatever it is you are doing, EVERYONE will benefit.
Join me, won’t you?
For more on moving from chore to choice:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Lightening Your Load: Mind Over Matter
Priorities, Productivity and Perspective
Falling Down
Do you find yourself frustrated when you keep trying something over and over again only to feel like you’re getting nowhere? I must confess, I’ve felt that way often. But I had an epiphany one day in yoga class that gave me a whole new perspective. I suddenly realized the one thing that was consistently missing in my many attempts. This week’s video post is about that one thing, which has proven to be valuable not only on my yoga mat, but in the rest of my life as well.
When you’re done watching the video, scroll down for more resources on “falling over”.
Here’s what I said in the video:
I’ve been working on trying to do a handstand for a really long time. And it took me a long time before I would even try. I would see people doing it and think “Wow that’s really cool, but I can’t imagine I would ever be able to do that”. And then gradually, I thought, “You know what? I want to do this. I’m going to try this.”
So, I started off by kicking one foot up and just didn’t get far enough. Kicked another foot up and just wasn’t getting anywhere. And I thought “How do people do this?”
The yoga instructor pulled me aside one day and said, “You know Diane, if you really want to get up there, you have to be not afraid of falling over.” And I thought “Falling over! I don’t want to fall over.” So I took that home and I thought about it and I kept watching people.
And I thought “You know what, so what if I fall over – I know how to fall into a backbend. I’m going to try it, what the heck!”.
So the next time, I kicked up further and higher than I’ve ever kicked up, and guess what – I fell over. Splat, right on my back. Just then, the man sitting next to me on his mat said, “Wow, you’re a risk taker.” And I replied [after thinking about it for a minute] “… yeah, I am.”
Real success is achieved when falling down simply becomes part of the process.
For more on “falling over”:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Let it Rip – Pushing Past Polished (published 8/1/11 on the Women Speakers Association blog)
Bouncing Back: Perseverance Personified
Strive image by Robert Balazik from Dreamstime.
The Downside of Comfort
Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Unless you do something beyond what you have already mastered, you will never grow.” This week’s video post recaps a brief conversation I had with my youngest son that gave me insight into why it is so hard to move beyond that which we already know — and what we have to lose if we don’t. It’s amazing what you can learn from your kids — and a pair of old, gnarly sneakers. Tweet
Here’s what I said in the video:
My son pulled these [sneakers] out of the trash the other day. He said, “Mom, why did you throw these away, I love these shoes!”
“Really? This is why I threw them away.”
“But Mom they’re so comfortable and I love them and they’re black and they’re great and they’re all worn in.”
“But sweetie, if it rains, your toes are going to get sopped. And you can’t run as fast as you want to in these. And you can’t play kickball without injuring yourself.”
He insisted on wearing them. He dug them out of the trash and put them on one day even after we bought him new shoes.
But you know, I get it — because we all have our habits that are comfortable and easy and familiar. And we want to keep doing them, even when they don’t serve us anymore.
Sometimes comfort keeps you bound. Dare to move beyond it.
For more on moving beyond your comfort zone:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
Taking Your Leap, Part I & Part II
Bridging the Gap Between No More and Not Yet
From Disaster to Master
Have you ever noticed that some people have a knack for making amazingly difficult feats look easy? Maybe it’s the dancer that seems to merge so completely with the music that it seems to actually come through her. Perhaps it’s the chef that chops and sautés and gently folds ingredients together in such a way that they become an impressive creation of mouth watering art. Maybe it’s the speaker that gets up in front of hundreds or even thousands of people and uses a combination of words and emotion that transcend language and reach right into the hearts of everyone present, leaving each person somehow transformed.
Wouldn’t you love to reach that level of mastery in your own life? I would. I once heard someone say, “Every master was once a disaster.” Over the four plus years that I’ve been learning karate with my kids, I have certainly had my share of embodying the disaster part of that expression. I can also tell you that those who truly pursue mastery — and seem to the rest of us as though they have already arrived — rarely (if ever) use the word “master” to describe themselves.
This week’s video post features a lesson I learned through my experience in the karate dojo that gave me insight into the pursuit of this thing called mastery – that can be applied to everything we do.
Here’s what I said in the video:
[The first part of the above video] was just a small part of a martial arts sequence called Kata. The first time I saw black belts doing that three or four years ago, I thought “there is no way I will ever be able to do anything like that”, but gradually I learned. And I wasn’t able to learn it all at once. I had to start out by learning what a U-block was and how you punch, and how do you do a center knife-hand (which I still need to work on). And then I was taught the sequence — what comes after what.
The first time I did the sequence it did not look like a dance. It did not look like a kata. It looked like a choppy series of techniques that I hadn’t quite mastered yet. I had to think about every single thing I was doing and what came next and whether or not I was doing it right. And I was completely in my head.
Only when I did it enough times, over and over and over again was I able to forget about thinking and trust that my body knew what to do, to lose myself in the drama — and really that’s what the Kata is — a simulated fight against attackers. That is when it really came together for me.
It is so similar to what happens with us whenever we learn something new. We always start off looking a little silly, a little foolish and feeling a little stiff and certainly not smooth or fluid or graceful — and maybe think we’re never going to master it. But over time, the more we practice, the more we build confidence, the more we’re able to trust that we really do know what to do.
Then we’re able to get out of our heads and come from our heart. And that is when our work becomes our art.
For more on mastery:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be
In Search of Greatness: Finding Your Zone
Dancer photo by Alexander Yakovlev from BigstockPhoto.com.
Unhatched
This week’s video post is a short and rather candid one. It was a Wednesday morning and my coach/videographer and I were preparing for a day of shooting videos. I was telling her about something that was bothering me and the fear that it brought about —and before I knew it, she hit the record button.
Since the topic of our conversation was the butterfly habitat that I have been blogging about for the last couple of weeks (see On the Verge of Transformation and On the Brink of Change), I thought perhaps it was fitting to go ahead and post this one too. Maybe it’ll strike a chord with you.
Here’s what I said in the video:
One thing that bothered me this week is the butterfly cocoon (chrysalis) that had yet to hatch never hatched. And I realized it’s not going to hatch. So I took it out to the garden and laid it there.
I didn’t realize how much it bothered me until one day I was running and all of a sudden this ball of emotion came out and I realized that what I am most afraid of is being the caterpillar in the cocoon that dies in the cocoon and never emerges — that has undergone a transformation but kept it so hidden that the world never gets to see that.
I feel all of this energy coming inside of me that I think is a result of taking the downtime and asking the questions, and working through my demons – and getting some clarity on needing to be a voice and needing to really help people and get out there and talk about this stuff that everyone is going through, but nobody seems to want to admit.
There’s part of it that’s guilt, like I don’t feel like I’m doing enough. And I was gripped by this intense moment of sadness that if I deny this call, I’m going to end up like that butterfly in the cocoon that never hatched. And, I think that would be the saddest thing in the world and so that was my prayer that day – “God please don’t let me die in the cocoon”.
For more on change and transformation:
The Pinocchio Principle: Becoming the Leader You Were Born to Be (book)
Busting Out of the Box (workshop)
On the Verge of Transformation
Taking Your Leap, Part I & Part II
Bridging the Gap Between No More and Not Yet
Confused mind picture by ktsdesign from Bigstock Photo.
