We’re afraid of making our desires known. It’s scary to show pieces of ourselves to another, parts that make us vulnerable, the gentle spaces we perceive as fragile. It’s easier to hide behind accomplishment and labels and somebody else’s dreams.
what if I’m alone
what if I can’t make rent
what if it never happens
what if I’m found out
what if I fail
Fear morphs into competitive comparison as we scan the lives of colleagues and peers, anxiously wondering if we measure up. Our minds stop us from living, from allowing ourselves to just be.
Imagine if all that watching and playing it safe on the sidelines turned into focused energy.
Who do you want to be?
What do you want to do?
When I finally pushed doubt to the side, I became a writer. I became generous, forgiving, loving, and daring because I stopped caring about what didn’t matter in the first place and started paying attention to moments that made my heart swell.
I’m scared often.
I’ve had to get comfortable living with little in my bank account and not having a neatly packaged answer when people ask, “What’s next?”
But because of that, I’ve experienced beautiful mysteries I would have otherwise missed.
Life shouldn’t be neatly laid out.
Not the life I want to live.
Modified from this original post.