Tag Archives: fear

It’s not the fear of failure…

Posted on
22

She reluctantly displayed the first copy of her book, crisp and cold and fresh for me to see. She was a mixture of thrilled and hiding. And  her husband, from across the room, said, “You know what Mandy, she’s not afraid of failure. She’s afraid of success.”

I smiled.

I nodded.

She rolled her eyes.

And my insides said a quiet “amen.” I’ve had the same revelation recently…

I fear success more than failure. I fear the letdown of finally realizing my dreams alongside the realization that they aren’t everything in life. The nothing. The emptiness. The void that sits on the other side of accomplishment. I’m afraid that is what I will find on the other side. I will find that there is as much wanting on that side as there is on this side.

And what am I supposed to do with all that wanting?

So that’s me. That’s my fear. My fear that “success” will still leave me longing.

And that’s me being honest right here, as I take stock of it all in the midst of it all. August is a wild month of beginnings and endings. New seasons and new schedules and new to-dos.

And in the middle of this shift, maybe we can all take a minute and take stock of ourselves and our current fears. Look them in the eyes and say “so what?”

So, what? What are you afraid of? Fear? Success?

“The Bravest Moments of My Life”

Posted on
17

I’ve never thought myself brave. Not until yesterday morning, when Sabrina Ward Harrison asked me to list “The bravest moments of my life” and put an open page in front of me with lines and spaces waiting to be filled with my braveries.

There it was–Bravery staring back at me, looking me in the eye and saying: “See? See me?”

And I saw.

I saw how My Bravery subtly wove herself through the scariest moments–moments that were highlighted and starred and double-underlined and then marked with big bold letters in the margins of my memory: Risk, Fear, Pain, Damage, Warning.

Bravery doesn’t come without fear–without the pushing past instead of giving up or giving in. Bravery doesn’t ignore fear. Bravery sees her enemy, acknowledges what is to be done, and Bravery does it. Bravery is unrelenting. Bravery is noisy and forceful and … tall. Sometimes clumsy, but always moving. Always resisting. Always breathing.

Bravery is the pounding of the hammer–not destructing wall and beam and block–but into nail. Strengthening. Holding. Firming. Building.

Bravery is in me.

And in this moment of my life where I am facing a scary-exciting adventure into the unknown world of adoption, I need to remember:

I Am Brave. I Have What It Takes. It’s In Me.

And, bravery is in you.

And it matters not where you write your bravest moments, but I want to give you a figurative blank page. In the comment box here. In your own mind. In your heart. In an email. On the wall of your room.

Wherever you need to write it, take a minute and remember some of the bravest moments of your life.

I’m still afraid of monsters…

Posted on
37

I’ve been sleeping incredibly well lately, which is a beautiful experience. Too bad I’m asleep for most of it. ;) teeheeee!!

But, there have been–and are–and will be–moments where I’m painfully awake. Mind-racing. Stirring. Wandering. Or specific. Thinking about those things, whatever they are at whatever time, that keeps me awake at night.

For most of these moments, I’m overwhelmed… I’m staring, not at the ceiling, but figuratively at a something that seems impossible–that’s “bigger than me” in some way. And I’m gonna fail in creativity, work, relationships. Those are my big categories. Everything falls into those three importances. And, well… I guess I’m scared. I guess the kid in me who refused to close her eyes for fear that Aliens were going to get her, now looks at the world through grown-up eyes and can’t sleep because of the “monsters” that are out there.

I guess my monster is failure.

What’s your monster? What keeps you up at night?

What if I told you I got help…

Posted on
26

I’ve never seen anything like this before.

An overwhelming number of us have things locked deep down inside us that are ruling us. That are causing harm to us and to others. And we are paralyzed by shame and fear and guilt. We are silenced. Muted. For fear of rejection. For fear of losing our jobs. Our families. Our lives.

If anything has been made clear to me, it’s that we are bound by the chains of fear. We are enslaved to it. We are silenced by it.

  • What if I told you I battle depression.
  • What if I told you that I couldn’t get myself out of this darkness.
  • What if I told you I got help.
  • What if I told you my body needed supplements for my brain to work like it should.
  • What if I told you that I’ve been seeing a therapist for months.
  • What if I told you I just started group therapy. Yeah. Like the Bob Newhart/28 Days kind of group therapy.
  • What if I told you I’ve been afraid to publicly admit this because I’m having a hard time facing these facts myself.
  • What if I told you I’m winning the battle, with the help of my doctor and therapist.
  • But, what if I told you that I’m coming out with it right now, in the hopes that you, too, will talk to someone.

Anonymous internet confessions only go so far. They give us a tiny taste of the freedom that we can know. But, there’s a hitch: nobody knows who you are, so technically you’re still hiding, right?

There’s one thing I’ve wanted to say over and over again: Say this out loud. Confess it to a safe person. To a person who can give you, or help you find, the help you need. It doesn’t have to stay this way. It doesn’t have to end this way. Talk to someone.

James words have echoed through my mind over the past two days: Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.

Please get that healing we so desperately need. For the sake of your soul. And for the sake of your loved ones.