Beginning

Welcome to my new blog. This isn't the first time I've written a blog--I wrote pretty consistently when I was going through a rough patch about seven years ago.

Writing was therapeutic for me. When I wrote, I felt connected to myself and to the universe. I felt like God came through me. I wrote about my experience going through cancer treatment (you can find my previous posts here) and what I was learning along the way. The thing is, writing for me was the activity that crystallized those juicy nuggets of learning and discovery that life has a tendency to deliver if you pay attention. Typically, we move so fast that it's a challenge just to pay attention. Busy is a badge of honor, and I am no exception. "How are you?" people ask, and I say, "You know, BUSY, how about you?"

I pay most attention when I have time and space for thoughtful reflection. When I give myself the gift of solitude. When I let the words flow through my fingertips onto the virtual page. (Curiously, the words don't flow in the same way onto the physical page, as journaling turns into recounting what happened and missing the all important deeper listening, emotion and insight beyond mere events. Perhaps the difference is the ability to edit? Who knows.) Sometimes I read my old posts and think, "Wow, where did that come from, that sounds good!" I don't know exactly where my words come from when I write, but I find the process writing to be a delicious treat just for me.

BUSY provides the perfect excuse to prevent me from giving myself that treat. And therein lies the problem.

The scripts go something like this:

"I don't have time to write."

"I work full time and have a family with young children. When would writing fit, the middle of the night? I need my sleep!"

"I can't take time away from the family."

"It's selfish if I do something just for me."

"I don't know what to write."

"I'm not good enough."

Our excuses about why we CAN'T do something delicious for ourselves serve as a wall that protects us. Think about it... what is something that you know would serve you, something that you long for? Like improving your diet, being more present with your kids, traveling to a dream destination, starting a meditation practice, finally writing that book. Can you list your litany of excuses of why it won't work? Why you don't have time? Why you haven't done it yet? There's your wall of protection.

What is it protecting you from, you ask?

FEAR.

Yes, that's right. Many people think they don't start or accomplish something because they are scared. Well, sort of. The truth is that it's not the fear that's getting in our way. It's the avoidance of fear. The allergy to feeling the fear. The distinct sense of discomfort that beginning produces.

So for me, writing provides that thing--the activity that I long for and know will be delicious for me but also stirs up my wall of protection to keep me safely in my homeostatic comfort zone.

In order to begin, I had to break down my wall of protection. I had to address each of my excuses, one by one. I had to disbelieve my stories and recognize the deeper truths:

I can find time for things I enjoy--I do it all the time.

I can wake up early--in fact, I started this morning at 5:30am.

I am not selfish; I deserve a delicious treat just for me. It might even be considered selfish if I didn't give myself this gift.

Ultimately, my family will benefit when I nourish myself at a very deep level. I am not taking from them but rather giving back.

And while I had trouble sleeping last night and felt a jittery sense of anticipation, I did it. I'm here, feeling into what has stopped me in the past. And it actually feels great. I'm not resisting anymore. And the fear wasn't so bad once I faced it head on.

And so I begin...