Terrified even.

I want to jump out from this computer and run screaming out of my office and straight back to bed. Pull the covers over my head.  I’m thinking how good a lunch break would be even though it’s closer to breakfast than lunch. How much I wish I could go open a cheese shop.

You see, I’ve been trying writing about fear all morning, trying creating an interactive digital experience to transform fear.

Wait, you may be asking, why I am crossing the trying word out?

Because here’s one thing I have learned about fear in my research fest:

fear is more about trying and not so much about doing. As soon as I start doing (which today means writing) I am beset with doubts which quickly turn the doing into trying. Today’s doubts are:

• This isn’t a good idea.
• Why should I write this?
• There is so much already written about fear.
• I won’t be able to find a good copy editor.
• I won’t be able to afford a good e-book designer.
• Wait, what am I doing?

Suddenly my idea for a digital hope fest isn’t very clear anymore. Am I going to write a series of emails leading you through a process I’ve cobbled together? Or would an e-book be better? Audios of the process or just calming audios or both? A virtual retreat? I watch my project careen from focused and worthwhile to huge and overwhelming to wait, there is no project! All of which happens in a matter of two breaths.

Then I could start down the very long and winding trip of “What should I be doing with my life? Should I be writing X instead?”

Stop!

This is where I’m learning to stop myself and remember: The question is not, ‘What should I do?’ but rather ‘What do I want to do?’

I care so much about doing good work and living a meaningful life that I get constipated and can’t get anything out because what if it’s not purposeful and meaningful?  The longer I go without creating, the more plugged up I get. What if it is not up to me what value or meaning something has but up to the person receiving it? What if it just up to me to show up?”

What I’ve discovered is my washing machine of fear is created by how much I care. That deep caring used to fuel me to create, no matter how imperfectly. But somewhere along the line, I started believing that if I were doing what I was supposed to be doing (notice the abandonment of choice), my days would be ease-filled and fear-free. Right livelihood got conflated with feeling no fear. As in “I’m on the right path if everything feels great all the time.”

When I would feel fear and doubt, instead of taking these emotions as a sign to check in with myself or an indication I have left my comfort zone and am taking a risk, which means I need some extra healthy comfort and support, I would hightail it down the slippery slope of questioning everything I was doing.

What if instead, as Frances Moore Lappe and Jeffery Perkins propose in You Have the Power:

Fear is pure energy. It’s a signal. It might not mean stop, it could mean go!”

But only if I stop and unravel what I am feeling, connect back to my essential caring and my essential choice!

Which often means actually stopping. Which I’m going to do. Right now.

P.S. What form would you like the hope fest to take? Send idea to jen at jenlouden.com

And don’t forget to sign up for the cheap pre-release price to celebrate me getting over my fear and creating by saving money.