Making a Movement: Who Do You Trust?
“Who do you trust,” she asked.
“Me,” I replied. “I trust me.”
This was a real life conversation shared with my therapist 48 hours ago, and if we could set my life to song over these past couple of weeks, that would be the refrain:
“I trust me.”
Sounds like a good idea, right? Like I’ve actually been working on developing some self-trust after looking for validation from the people around me for most of my life, so self-trust is movement in a positive direction.
But self-trust - like most character traits - can be a double-edged sword when applied with extreme force to every area of life, and this is where I found myself over these weeks.
Cut off. Severed from any source of consolation by the same trait I had developed to help create some freedom in my life.
But this is also where I finally had a breakthrough.
After so many years believing that it was my singular responsibility to create a life free from suffering for myself and the people I love, I only just last week said out loud:
“Maybe it was never my job at all.”
I don’t know… this may not sound like much to you, but to me, it was earth-shattering. Ground shaking. It was like being freed from a prison cell (or so I might imagine.)
And it was fear that took me up to the edge of that realization. I had to look right in the eyes of the thing I’m most afraid of (not being able to provide for my children), consider a route around the fear by choosing safety (getting a job), and then listen intently to what the universe had to say about it all.
And again, this might not sound like much to you, but when it comes to providing for my kids, I’ve not given a single fuck about what anyone has to say, most especially “the universe.” In another lifetime, I trusted my life to something unseen, something bigger than me, and I lost everything. The husband I loved. The home we made. The safety of knowing how I would survive.
Everything.
So, I’ve spent the years since that moment rebuilding, all the while tightly weaving this cocoon around me and tucking my babies right inside of it We didn’t need “the universe.”
We were the universe.
Now, as you may have suspected, there is a problem with this little construct I’d created. It doesn’t leave any room for anyone or anything other than us.
And that makes it hard to be my wife. Or my friend. Or my God, for that matter. But you see, I’m a lucky girl… in spite of myself, they’ve all seemed to stick around, even when I was busy building my way out.
And if this year teaches me anything, I am certain it is going to teach me that I need other people. Like I need to let them all the way in, rely on them, receive from them.
Or maybe I won’t need the whole year because sitting here now, I feel pretty convinced that other people are the way to go. I’m pretty tired of walking on my own anyway.
If you want to see how I arrived at this conclusion, you’re welcome to read the unedited day-by-day entries below. Thanks for coming along with me. It’s pretty clear I need the company.
Day 1
Day 1. That feels weird.
I feel so alive some days. Today was one of those days. The ideas came faster than I could capture them, and so the little bit of time I had to actually sit and work were full, but not focused. Creativity is this way with me - sometimes it’s like trying to take a sip of water from a fire hydrant.
On more than one occasion today, I talked about self-promotion - or rather, my deep discomfort with it. It’s something I know I need to get past in order to grow both the audience of The Project and the demand for speaking engagements, but I still hate it.
I took a little dive underneath why I hate it so much today and this is what I discovered:
I’m pretty harshly judgemental of self-promoting people because most self-promoting people I know are generally lacking in substance. It’s like looking at a house with great curb appeal only to walk in and find out that there is no plumbing.
I need plumbing.
I was asked to today to think about someone I admire who is self-promoting and that’s tricky because the people I admire -the people I want to model this work after - don’t seem to be self-promoting at all. The message seems to draw people to it without the messenger shouting about wise they are. Here, I think of Brene Brown. She’s just doing the work and the work draws the people.
But then I wonder - was Brene always that way? Before anyone knew her, did she actively promote herself? I’ll bet she did because that’s how this whole thing works. When we see a personality we deem to have become an “overnight success,” the truth is usually that they have been toiling behind the scenes for year - decades - hoping someone would notice what they’re doing.
And the reality is no one is going to promote me the way I can. But what it requires is for me to face the fear I have about my personal power.
Since as far back as I can remember, I’ve loved the Marianne Williamson quote about our deepest fear… “that we are powerful beyond measure.”
And at the core of this thing, I actually believe that to be true. That I am powerful beyond measure. But instead of being powerful beyond measure, I’ve lived most of my life being pretty measured. And being measured keeps me small.
I think for me the key to self-promotion is to just commit to saying what is true. Period. I don’t need to embellish or package or polish the damn thing.
Just tell the truth. Always and out loud.
Day 2
I don’t want to wait until the end of the day today. I want to remember the feeling when I woke up. Yesterday was alive. The first breath this morning was fear. And not like heart-racing, but the kind that makes me believe that there is no reason for this work, that no one cares. Or worse yet, that no one cares enough for me to be able to make a living doing it.
That’s often what fear looks like for me - inertia, immobilization, despair, defeat.
I’m familiar with it now, so I know what to do with it, but still…. I hate when it’s waiting for me before I open my eyes.
I actually laid in bed for 10 minutes, willing it to go away, but it was demanding my attention, so I got up, started the coffee, laid on my sofa and rested my hand on my belly.
Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
This is the only thing that can move fear for me. My breath. My hand on my body. The remembering that I’m safe. There was no epiphany that followed. Only the silence of my house. The sound of the electric kettle clicking off. The promise of one more day ahead of me.
It’s hours later. I still am not sure this is going to work.
But it will not keep me from trying.
Day 3
A small glitch in my “write every day” plan.
Today is Saturday and I take Saturday off.
The only writing I do is in my journal.
The only posts I’ll put up are a reflection of the people and places who are not work for me.
The only coffee dates I’ll keep are those without an agenda.
Saturday is sacred to me.
So, I’ve got a problem.
I can’t keep my promise to you to write every day and keep my promise to myself.
Which leaves me with a choice to make.
And the choice is clear.
I choose me.
Always.
So, I will write 314 posts this year instead of 365 and everyone will survive.
And if there’s anything you keep from this blog over this year, THIS is the thing I want you to keep.
Make something sacred.
Start with your time.
Take a day off.
From your email. From your social obligations. From the gym. Even from your own healing.
Take a day off.
Rest.
If you don’t know how, I’ll go first. You can follow.
I promise, we will both be better off for it.
Day 4
I forgot.
I almost filled this in like I didn’t, but promised myself I would be honest with you and I honestly just forgot to write. So, there you have it.
Day 5
Today is darker. Very dark, actually.
And not because I didn’t do work that filled me today, but because I did.
I got to spend most of the day recording interviews for season three of the podcast and very few things give me life like that. But a full day in the studio also means a full day when I’m not making money, which brings us to the dark part.
I am not in a position to not make money for very long at all… like a matter of weeks, not months, so every day in the studio, or every day writing, or every day being with the women who bring this Project to life also brings me one day closer to reckoning with this reality that I only have a few days left before I need to take a job that brings in a paycheck.
And that makes for some dark spaces.
I want both, if I’m being honest. I want purpose driven work that makes me come alive AND I want security. And I do believe both are available to me, but until I see how, I also have the enormous responsibility of raising my kids. And my kids can’t eat my sense of fulfillment for dinner. They need actual food. So I need actual money.
So as these final few weeks pass, I am working hard to see the silver lining in it. I want to be deeply grateful that I am employable and have these incredible local connections who believe in me and are wiling to partner with me to help me meet my financial obligations. But tonight, I am just sad. I know that if I can’t make the money part work right now, I’m not done trying. I know that this idea is here to be made real through me. But I don’t see how yet. So, I suppose I’ll just keep going until I do.
Day 6
“I don’t want to earn my living. I want to live.” - Oscar Wilde
I could run you through this day that was just brutal in some spots and hopeful in others, but none of it matters right this second.
All that matters right this second is the truth that above all else, I want to live a life. Period. Live it. Be in it. Present to it. Alive in it. And I want the same for you.
Day 7 and Day 8
So busy trying to outrun my fear, I forgot to write. And this is not an exaggeration. When I am afraid this way, I pack my schedule and run from one thing to the next… like I’m being chased (but no one is behind me.) So, I forgot to write because that would require me to reflect and these two days have been a couple of “fuck reflection” kind of days. Here’s to hoping Day 9 looks different.
Day 9
A list of things I know for sure at the end of the first full week:
Fear is a sneaky mother fucker
I value security. And I believe it’s my job alone to create it.
When I do this (see above), I cut off the work of something sacred in me.
Spoiler alert: This work is spiritual for me. Like from my spirit to yours. It might look like social justice or public speaking or solid blogs, but really it’s like a sneak attack for our souls… the good kind.
When I cut off the sacred in me, I can’t breathe.
New development…. If I try to make a decision outside of my passion and purpose, my body revolts. Just ask the people who hung out with me for the two days during which I couldn’t turn my neck.
When I am out of alignment in my spirit, my body follows. (yours probably does, too, if you listen)
Nothing in the world lights me up like this work.
Women are incredible. They are incredibly wise and generous and kind and caring. And the trick for me is to receive this so that I can actually FEEL the wisdom, generosity, kindness and caring.
I can’t wait to see what happens next
That’s all for now. I might actually recount the events of the week so this post is less cryptic. Or I might not. If it stays general, you might see how it applies to you, too.
Intentionally signing off for tomorrow (Sacred Saturday). See you for Day 11.
Day 11
I think I’m going to start writing at the beginning of the day. Night is hard. I’m just done and don’t really want to use words anymore.
For today…
It’s Sunday and I always work on Sundays. I’ve been trying to make Sunday into “Social Media Sunday” because I am completely undisciplined about my social media presence and it’s apparently a “requirement” of building the kind of thing I’m trying to build.
I’ll save the social media rant for another day.
For today…
I’m full of gratitude. Last week was dark. Full of fear. And it ended with a rush of good news I needed to hear. If there seems to be a theme emerging for me this year, it’s that I have got to find a way to be comfortable receiving….
Receiving help and support and kindness and abundance. I’m really good at making things “on my own”. I’m not as good at realizing that I’ve never actually done a damn thing on my own. My life - to date - is some mystical combination of chance and providence, love and support. I suspect the same is true for all of us. It’s just hard to let the receiving happen. It triggers the primal part of my brain that tells me to stay protected.
But ironically - or not - I can’t do this work protected. I have to do this work heart wide open. It reminds me of the Brene quote:
“Strong back. Soft front. Wild heart.”
I’ve got the first one down. The last one comes to me naturally. The middle part is messy.
But here’s what I promise… today I will soften. Just for today. I will allow the front of me stay soft. I have no idea what tomorrow brings, but just for today…
Day 12
So many things. I’ll write more tomorrow. But for tonight… I just need to say transitions are weird. Yes, the professional one I’m in, but really all of them. They are messy and uncomfortable and without road signs to guide along the way. They are always “journey”, never “destination,” and that annoys me to no end.
Day 13
“Who do you trust,” she asked.
“Myself,” I answered.
I trust myself.
I need days to sit with this, but this was a revelation to me. I trust myself. Always. And no one else. And I can’t go on like that forever.
Day 14
I got to make something today. These are my favorite days.
I snuggled up in the sound studio today with Archie, the sound engineer genius who helps me produce the podcast and we created a new opening and a trailer for season three and it was such an incredible experience, I found myself tearing up a few times. There is not a feeling in the world that compares with finding a person who can help you translate the music in your head into real, live music. It was electric. And I can’t wait for you to listen to it.
Today was good. These are my favorite days.