Taking the Leap of Faith...in Myself

When I first started dating my husband, Dave, we talked a lot about our dreams, shared our philosophies on life, and laid out our goals -- all, of course, in the span of about three weeks' time as part of the intricate courtship dance, to see how and if these two lives will somehow, someday fit together. At the time -- especially being only three weeks in -- the concept of marriage, and family, was a little frightening to talk about. We called it "starting a bobsled team".

One thing Dave said, one of the many "truisms" (he made a list) that has always held true (go Dave!), was this: Your worries keep you honest; your fears hold you back.

That was nearly twelve years ago.

Recently, I was reminded of this adage and have not been able to let it go. During a long-overdue visit with my best friend (hi, Katie! We still need to schedule in that weekly call we promised, what, six weeks ago?), as we were catching up on life while jumping from jacuzzi to pool and back again, she made a very astute observation.

"See how you are inching your way into the pool? Me, I just jump in. You hesitate. That's the difference between us."

She is so right. And that halting, inch-by-inch progression to full submersion in that pool? The story of my life. That's my fear, holding me back.


I'm miserable in my job. I have ideas for at least half a dozen businesses that I have yet to start. I have dreams, I know I do -- remember back when Dave and I were dating? We talked about them all the time. At least, thank goodness, we finally started that bobsled team!




True to my character, it has taken me six weeks of hemming and hawing, negotiating, and thinking about it to finally do -- not decide to do, but do -- something about it.


Earlier this week, I started writing my first novel. (This does not count the popular seventh-grade serial The Strange Things That Happened in Room 101, or 2050: Seascape, the self-proclaimed cult hit in tenth.)

This step is a long time coming; I've wanted to write ever since that Room 101 journaling adventure in Mr. Griffith's seventh grade English class. But something has always stopped me. I now know what that something has always been: fear. The burning question is, fear of what?

The list is endless. There's the fear of criticism, which is inevitable in writing. Your work is criticized first by someone (or more) who you have to trust to give you that outside perspective as you're writing; then by agents, publishers and editors as you try to get your hard work recognized and published; then (if you're lucky) by book critics and the general public. Then there are the unknowns. What if I do this and find out that I suck at it? What if I do this and find out that I hate it? What if I get writer's block? What if I have to speak in front of a large audience? What if? What if? What if???? It's exhausting.

If some of this is a little repetitive, forgive me; I know I've blogged about it before. Which is all the more reason why I had to get off my duff and do something about it.

I'm 1,117 words in; only about 99,000 more to go.

Now that the novel is underway -- a BIG step one -- I'm starting to think about other things I'm afraid of, where my fear could be holding me back. I'm not talking about things that have major danger or death factors, like skydiving or bungee-jumping, or running with the bulls. No way in hell anyone's getting me to do any of those, so I'm not going to set myself up for failure. I'm talking about the things that, basically, my EGO is afraid of. Like, singing in public (not as part of a large group and definitely not because I'm drunk). Or, telling someone that they were right and I was wrong. Or, starting one of those businesses.

Step two is listing all of these things -- large and small. Step three will be to check them all off, one by one. Call it my bucket list, if you will. I call it my path to a better life.

What are your fears? What dreams do or did you have that you have yet to realize? What is holding you back? I encourage everyone to join me, make a list of your own. Feel free to share -- and don't be afraid, I won't bite!

My Own Worst Enemy

Not too long ago, I wrote about one of my adversaries, the Stress Monster. Today, I'd like to introduce you to a much more insidious beast: the Spectre of Self-Doubt. Unlike the aforementioned Stress Monster, which hides deep inside only to rear its ugly head (in a very Hulk-like way) in moments of extreme pressure, the Spectre of Self-Doubt is always there, following me like a shadow and whispering in my ear.

And the problem with that is, it really holds me back.

Because for every thing I really want to accomplish, that Spectre can come up with ten good reasons why I can't do it. And for some reason -- especially in the wake of a Stress Monster attack -- I am inclined to believe it.

For example: I want to be a writer. I've been a writer, deep down in my soul, since I was a child. I spent hours upon hours writing epic adventure stories using my friends (and even some choice celebrities) as characters. (I also believe that someone found one of my old marble notebooks and used the contents to create the SeaQuest TV series... but that's a story for another time.) As an adult, I've channeled that creativity into public relations. It's not really what I want to do when I grow up, but for a long time that Spectre has led me to believe that I can't do anything beyond that.

So, you want to write, do you? What, do you think you're going to be a novelist or something? Do you really believe that anyone is going to want to read what you write? You can't make a living doing that. You can't even put half a sentence together before deleting it. You don't have time for this - you've got to work your real job, make sure the bills get paid, do the laundry, take care of the baby, make dinner, and fulfill everyone elses needs before you can even think about doing what you want to do. You don't have the chops; you already gave that up a long time ago -- what makes you think you can just jump right back in? Blah, blah, blah...

I know that the Spectre is just the byproduct of a latent perfectionism: if I can't do it perfectly, then why bother trying at all? It's that "all or nothing" attitude that I have to overcome if I'm going to get anywhere with my dreams and live the life I want to live. On my terms -- not the Spectre's, not my boss's, and not based on some misguided preconceived notion that things have to be a certain way or not at all.

I think that South Beach -- building healthy eating habits and starting an exercise program -- has been a good first step toward taking control over my life, and an excellent example for taking on other areas as well. I can't "blame the stress" if I overindulge; I make a conscious choice every moment of every day to eat the right foods, despite the stress, but if I slide then it is my fault alone. When it comes to South Beach, I have never said that "I don't have the willpower" -- that would only be giving in to the Spectre and proving her right. And it would kind of make me a hypocrite if I let the Spectre stop me from following my writing dream, or any other dream for that matter.

It's time I apply what I've learned on South Beach, and start making things happen.