Confessions on Becoming Fearless
I'
ve been thinking alot about fearlessness these days, in relation to my own life. When we think about being fearless, we think of scaling the highest peaks or bigger than life gestures. But what about the smaller, more personal moments of our everyday lives, where we open ourselves up to all the possibilities that life has to offer - without fears about ageing, meeting expectations or just following our bliss?
I'd always played it safe with my emotions, my passions and my life. It meant not having to step outside my comfort zones. Playing it safe meant no risks of getting my heart broken or having my life pulled out from under me when I least expected it. I thought I was in control of my life, living my life on my own terms. I suppose if the definition of living meant avoiding change and being closed off from new experiences, then I was doing a bang on job of it.
My push in becoming fearless started when was I replaced from a job that was no longer a joy, but I clung to it for the security of a pay check and the daily rituals of familiarity. I still remember one of the women I worked with saying, "Maybe it's time try something else. I don't think you're happy here anymore. Go where you will be happy and don't be afraid of stepping out."
I knew what my fears were, only I didn't call them fears, or acknowledge them as such. It was always "good men are hard to find," or "My job is convenient. It's across the street from the apartment," or "the timing isn't right for the writing thing..."
In a nutshell, I had a fear of failing at love and life and all the beautiful little nuances and absurdites that came with the two. I'd only had heart break in my many attempts at love. I'd held that job for almost almost 16 years. Maybe I thought that there was no place in the world for an almost 40 late-bloomer. Sure, I felt attractive, smart and talented and even strong, but how could I be all those things and yet be fearful of love, life and the whole damn thing?
I was nearing 40, and although I wasn't particularly worried about turning 40, it stood there, looming expectantly like it was supposed to be this great milestone I was supposed to reach with my life and dreams intact, ready to take on the world or at least yell yoohoo. I was supposed to be at a certain place in my life like all of my girlfriends, who were either married, married with children or chasing down the career path. I fell into neither of those categories.
Then suddenly and swiftly I had the rug pulled out from under me and it shook my foundation - shaky as it was - it was all I'd known for almost 16 years. I'd started that job just into my twenties and here I was thirty something, and suddenly one of my worst fears had come true. Being without a job, I was afraid that I would lose my apartment and become homeless,but really what I was afraid of was that I couldn't do anything else.
Three months of isolation, walking on the boardwalk, contemplating my life at my precious lake - who held my secrets deep within her underbelly - made me see my life for what it was. Having conversations with her, and she, quietly, daring me to swim with the tide and not sink with my fears, which in the more desperate moments had me thinking of moving back in with my parents, God love them.
I had to swim or at least learn how to come up for air. When the sound of my own fears and beating heart quieted, I could almost enjoy my liberation from the job. After my 3 months of "evaluating," which really was more "mourning and wallowing in my own self pity and being absolutely self-indulgence with Hagan Daz, I put on a suit for the first time in my life, and Shaking in my boots, I walked into an office and landed the job within the first ten minutes of the interview. I left that office with the belief that I could do anything. It was the first step in starting to live my life the way I've always wanted - the life inside my head. It was the first step to becoming fearless.
On the subway ride home, I realized that my fears about leaving the dead-end job were unwarranted. I hadn't become homeless and getting another job wasn't like walking through the fires of hell. It was actually exhilarating to hear myself talk about my qualities and abilites with confidence. I'd never had to do that before. I was shaking with fear, but the thing was that I didn't let them see me sweat. What I also realized was that for people to see your worth you have to believe that you're worth something.
The fear that kept me tied to the job was what also kept me from opening myself up to love, humanity and pursuing my passions. All along I was afraid of putting myself out there without a net. What was to guarantee that I didn't fall or fail? There is none. You just have to give yourself permission to fail and get on with life. It really is that simple and that blunt.
People who are always afraid need that net of familiarity--it's what keeps them wrapped up in their fears, keeps them from opening up to new experiences. It's what keeps them from going after their passions. Familiarity may be a miserable, and yet comfortable place to live because you own it and you're used to it.
Fear makes us settle for less than we deserve. It keeps us from having the live we have inside our heads. Getting outside your head is about living your passions, finding your own rhythm, sounding your voice and being true to yourself, which are all ingredients to a well lived, fearless and authentic life.
Which brings me to why I've been thinking about fearlessness these days. Being in a car sometimes terrifies me. Being behind the wheel terrifies me even more. But I can't forget that liberated feeling the first time my husband tried to teach me to drive, and I drove around the local dealership parking lot until he slamned on the emergency brake to avoid a car. It took the wind out of my sail and I haven't done it since. But I, sometimes, think of getting behind the wheel of a car and drifting out of my small town to do some decent shopping or catch a movie - the sort of thing I used to do when I lived in the hub of the big city with street cars running 24/7.
Sometimes, I get upset with myself for having this fear of driving, but then I think about how far I've come. It's been three years since, scared out of my mind, I packed up my big city life in one country and moved to small town USA. It's the most fearless thing I've ever done in my life, and I would say that it is probably the point that I started my life. Since then I've gotten married to a wonderful man and started writing again. It all culminated in starting SureWoman.com because I believe that we should not let fear stop us from following our passions, showing our real selves or designing a great life for ourselves.
I now understand that fear doesn't have to paralyze and that it is alright to be afraid. Fearlessness is not the absence of fear. It is doing something new even though you're afraid. It is in the doing that we begin to lead authentic and fearless lives. Now, I just need to apply this thinking to learning how to drive.
Copyright 2008 © Dawn Prince. Not to be reprinted without expressed permission.
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