There will never be a day when I don’t worry that I’m not doing enough. (At the same time, worrying I’m too much… how’s that for internal irony.)
Am I making enough progress on the important stuff?
And what about the unimportant stuff?
Am I saying enough how I feel and think?
And what about saying too much? Am I doing enough holding back?
Am I doing enough to show up for this group? This person? This industry?
And before anyone feels like they have to tell me I am enough or am doing enough, please know, I know that. That’s the point of the post. Keep reading. (And thank you for your compassion.)
Because fear is always a buzzword for me now, anytime I hear myself say or feel, or notice in my behavior that I’m afraid I’m not doing enough or am doing too much, I always ask, “what am I afraid will happen if I don’t?”
I’m trying to turn the lights on, on the fear, more now. If I feel compelled to over-explain, it’s “what am I afraid will happen if I don’t?”
If I feel compelled to do more, it’s “what am I afraid will happen if I don’t get that done?”
If I feel compelled to change myself, it’s “what am I afraid will happen if I show up as myself?”
Way too often, both in my own exploration and in my coaching, there is no answer to that question. And when there is no answer to the question, then I stop listening.
“Thank you for the activation, but I will be ok.”
Why?
Because if I don’t know what I’m afraid of, I’m not afraid of anything, I’m afraid of everything, and that’s a survival mechanism. If there is a lion in front of me, I’m afraid the lion will eat me. If there’s a tornado, I’m afraid of getting sucked up and away. If there’s a spider, I’m afraid of… wait, what am I afraid will happen if there’s a spider? Hmmm….
Some of us will need therapeutic help to work through these questions, so I’m not saying everyone needs to work through this on their own. Sometimes, the last thing we want to do is confront those fears alone. It’s why we take found family on the hero’s journey. Why there’s always a mentor. And why the mentor always dies. It’s a metaphor.
We shouldn’t face the fears alone.
But I’ve done enough processing with my therapists and coaches to know this now. When I can’t name the fear, it’s not an actual survival-level fear. It’s a “what am I afraid is true about me” fear. I’m afraid I won’t be accepted or loved. Maybe I’m afraid of being incompetent. Maybe I’m afraid of overwhelm (being out of control). Maybe I’m afraid of doing it wrong. Whatever my fear is, there’s a fear down there (it’s why I love Claire’s Enneagram work so much… the illustration of that fear pattern is such a life saver for me).
Because when I’m in my full-self, I know I’m competent. I know I’m loved. I know I’m ok. And when I’m afraid, but don’t know why I’m afraid, the why matters.
Although, let’s take the fear at face value. Let’s say I do or say something wrong. Let’s say I make a mistake. Let’s say I am stupid. Let’s say I have a bad day or don’t provide the information I could have.
My full-self knows there’s always tomorrow. And I’m doing a better job at staying fully present with myself, which helps. But so many of us have fear points that are keeping us in bondage to people or to patterns or to places or to thoughts that do not have our best interests at heart.
In those moments, I wish I could connect to you, heart-to-heart, and make you feel what I know to be true, which is that we have faced these things before and overcome them. We have lost before and won again. We have fallen before and risen. We have collapsed before and healed.
We are strong.
When I am together with you, in the full light, in my honesty, I know these things. So this is me turning the lights on today, for all of us.
I do more than I need to.
I hold back more than I should.
I divulge more than I want to.
I connect more than I have to.
I isolate more than is necessary.
I execute more than anyone expects.
And I fail more than anyone knows.
I am enough. You are enough.
Maybe there will be a day when I don’t worry I’m not doing enough or being enough. Because if I can turn the lights on, long enough to see the room, I can feel at home there again.
– Becca
