As I stepped into transition space, I was aware fear might have something to say, but I was mostly flowing on faith. I cut my “job job” in half, meaning my income went down significantly, and unlike some of my more economically equipped friends, I don’t really have savings, but what I do have is a lot of debt and a mostly well rooted belief that everything’s gonna be ok.
So I’m in a transitional place where really my only option is to operate out of complete faith as I get my next offering up and running in this giant empty space with no tangible security. I must be in faith that I have enough right now. In faith that more is coming. And in faith that this choice to cut my hours, which feels completely aligned, is a small piece of a larger story, not an impractical move. I was moving along pretty well in faith until I acknowledged and talked about the fear that was kind of, sort of, just a little peripherally present. Damn me for giving it a voice.
Then it crept in big time. “What if this new plan I have doesn’t work? What if I can’t pay my rent? What if I have to get a normal job again?! Ugh!!! NO, NO, NO!”
When I woke up at 3am from a completely calm and peaceful stress-free sleep (yeah, right,) I went immediately into prayer, mantra practice, and altar creation. It was time to set myself up for success. I know what’s going to work for me (and yes, I realize, this might not be everyone’s go-to, and of course that’s great if you have another way that works for you) is steeping myself so deeply in devotion and faith that there is no choice but for this to work out perfectly. It would probably work out perfectly anyway, but it’s easier when you’re on the ride than resisting it, right?
OK so it’s 3:30am, I’m in prayer, I’m in devotion, I’m making my new altars, setting intentions, asking for what I want…. and I have this vision of what fear is.
Fear is the neighbor/acquaintance who doesn’t have anything particularly useful to add to the conversation, who has no real connection with you or your friends, showing up coincidentally minutes before beloved guests are about to start arriving for a party. Fear was not invited. It’s your job now to have the quick conversation with fear that gets it out the door so it doesn’t ruin the party or think there’s a party about to happen. Because then it’s going to want to stay. Maybe it has a piece of mail for you – some little piece of information that it feels like it needs to share. Ok, fear, give me the mail (it’s probably junk mail anyway) and then you really better go because… didn’t you leave your stove on? Oh no? That must be me, OK, gotta go. Bye bye.
If fear is knocking on the door, you could try not answering, but it might take a while before it gets the hint. I chose to have a conversation with my fear, and found out that it really thought it was doing the right thing by trying to control me. I get it, fear, we all think that our way is the best way. BUT I GOT THIS. I CAN STRAY FROM YOUR PATH AND STILL BE SAFE AND HAPPY. So leave me the F alone, ok? There’s no room for you here.
It was scary to yell at fear, but it was also ridiculously empowering. (Yes, I did actually verbally yell at my fear.)
I think I made my point and fear will only come back if there’s something really important to share. I might see it creeping around my yard peeking in through my windows, but I don’t think it’s gonna come knocking on the door again on this one.
It’s still a practice to keep myself from going back to thinking about that pesky neighbor, but I know who it is, where it lives, and what scares it away. So I have the advantage.
I’m gonna sit down with faith and have a nice cup of tea now to plan my next moves and write the book “If you give a fear a cookie.” See you crazy kids later.