Serenity Moments…Standing Down Fear

I’m sitting on a stoop in front of my open oven turned to 400 degrees, typing on my mac-book trying to get warm.

There’s working heat in my studio apartment but I feel a bit of a chill still.

Yet it’s not from the frigid temps outside, or from the windows’ framed visuals of  white frosting blanketing every branch, fence, awning or ground area.

It’s from this: For the first time in like forever, I’m not running. And I’m not used to what ‘not running’ feels like.

The warmth of the oven’s heat is a bit of a counter to the chill of fear.

But I’m quite done with her attempts to befriend me. Self centered, egotistical, backstabbing, jealous, and parasitical,  I’ve told her I don’t wish to hang out with her anymore, that I get zero from the relationship and I’m done.

Fear is having a difficult time accepting my refusal.

In fact, she stopped by yesterday and knocked at my door unannounced.

I asked, “who is it?” She yelled through the door she was soo soo excited to show me off at the holiday parties she’d be attending and it would give me this huge moment to network and meet a bunch of folks who could help me with my project ideas. So open the door and let her in so we could plan.”

I studdered…”Um, no. I’m busy. Go home.”

She ignored my weak attempt to turn her away.

She proceeded to tell me she’s created a fabulous idea to take my project to the next level…with a whole buy-in process which would establish a foundation of equity from which I could operate, that I needed much more cash-flow. And she went on and on about some new product she wanted me to sell and all I have to do is x, y, z to I too will make a million.

She then continued and told me if I hurried up and got dressed she’d take me to this real surprise location where’s she’s convinced she’d get buy-in and loads of investors…because she’s an easy sell.”

So there it was. The real reason for her visit.

I still didn’t open the door.

But I didn’t speak boldly enough either.

I made up a story. I told her I had some writing to do.

Not good enough.

She fired back with ‘I’ll have ya home in a couple hours.”

So I made up another story. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

To which she fired back….”You look radiant as ever right now.”

(The door was closed. How did she know? Trying to flatter me stupid so I’d say yes. Fear is an idiot quite honestly).

“Tell her,” my inner voice said. “Tell her you don’t wanna go, you refuse to sell out, that you are not going to be doing any big huge project. Tell her that for the first time in like forever you are finally not running away from your innermost yearnings to own your voice and live your truth.”

“Tell her you see right through her labels and stereotypical sale-man approaches. Tell her you are done with getting all dressed  and gussied up to make a pitch. Tell her you are tired of hiding behind project ideas, burned out on trying to think of what will woo people over. Tell her you can’t afford to put your life on hold for another minute let alone the few hours she’s swaying you.”

“Tell her you are tired of telling partial truths so she’s comfortable and not embarrassed by your appearance.”

“Tell her it’s not just about making an appearance. It’s about living a truth 24/7.”

So I took a leap and tried.

But I cowered and only said this:

“You know I’ve just got a lot on my plate. Thanks for stopping by. I’m gonna go now. Go take someone else.”

Didn’t shut her up.

She stayed out there going on and on.

She tried to convince me for a good few more hours on why what I’m currently doing means nothing, why I must at once start recognizing that I have a real life to live and to get on with it already.

She tried using guilt, pay back, obligation as a few other tactics.

She even tried whining.

At long last, after much meditating and celebrating stillness, she left.

And it was in those quiet moments of stillness I remembered a truth I’ve known for a long long while.

We already have permission: To dream. To listen. To choose. To live. To do. To be.

And with that permission, we need not await anyone’s approval.

If it’s a nudge of the heart, and it keeps coming, it’s ours to do.

Rather than stall or run or put ourselves on hold waiting for the magic wand’s dubbing of ‘yes you are allowed to do/live/be this way’, we have only to heed that inner nudge that beckons us do so.

So on this day of setting my thoughts ahead on the week before us. …full of its holiday glory and wonder and cheer, I’m reminded of the best gift we can ever give ourselves: to love ourselves enough to know we have permission to be.

What’s your take?

How do you hear what’s yours to do and how do you respond?

May you enjoy the most serene holiday season ever…..

Love to you and yours….

Tre ~