Kicking Fear to the Curb

Fear seems to be running rampant in our days, these days. Current events and looming transitions are profound and we must take notice of what we see, hear and experience around us. Perhaps more importantly, I find myself noticing what's within—my own thoughts and feelings. Then I take note of how I am acting as a result of these thoughts and feelings.

When fear rises, I have been asking this question: "What thought has triggered this feeling of fear?" It's a self-diagnostic—an opportunity to conduct a check-up on where my thoughts are leading me. I continue to find the practice helpful.

Our fears have the ability to rule us. We can also dismiss them and fail to take stock of the "why" behind them. To me, either option is a great disservice we pay to ourselves and the people around us. When we live into one extreme or the other, we miss out on life.

So today, I'm inviting you to join me in further assessing these fears. If you're like me, sometimes they seem like a ball made of rubber bands. In order to understand what exists at the core of my fear, I must begin to look at each, pulling one apart from the others to investigate it individually. 

Consider taking out a sheet of paper or opening up a new note in your phone. Write down the name of each fear you can identify today (or a phrase that describes it) and then ask yourself the questions below for each fear you've captured. If this feels overwhelming, investigate a single fear and see how you feel before continuing onto the next. Really give yourself permission to take time with this process.

*Note: if you've experienced trauma in your life and haven't processed through it in counseling or another healing setting, I encourage you to walk through this process with a professional or with a trusted and deeply mature friend.

• What is the name or the sense I have of this fear?
• When is the first time I experienced it? This might not come to you right away as you reflect—that's okay. Take as long as you need to remember.
• What was happening around me or to me in that moment? Consider what you saw, heard, smelled, touched, etc.
• What did I feel in that moment? Describe it. This is important.
• What did I do when I felt afraid that day? What do I wish I would have done instead (if anything)?
• What happened next?
• Who was with me? 
• Did someone help? Who was it?
• Did someone add to my experience of fear in that moment? Who was it?
• What did this fear teach me about myself and other people?
• What decision, vow, or agreement did I make in light of what I experienced that day?
• Is that decision, vow or agreement the truth?
• If not, what is the truth?

This is deep stuff. It's okay if you hit something really tender. We can only heal when we engage our wounds and seek to understand what is underneath them. In my life, I have found, time and again, that I have made an agreement in a place of pain. That agreement has kept me trapped in a cycle of brokenness. Whenever I'm triggered by a fear that connects back to that unhealed piece of my story, I hurt all over again.

There is so much hope, though. Our fears can teach us valuable lessons about ourselves and others. The key is to understand the choices we've made and continue to make from the place of pain. New decisions can be made as we see the truth and apply it. We can heal. When we heal, we can help others. It's pretty amazing, actually. 

Here are a few additional questions I find valuable:

• What new decisions will I make when I am triggered so I can continue to walk in healing? e.g. What thought will I now think in order to replace the old thought with the truth?
• Who might walk with me in this process? (We all need help and encouragement.)
• What has this fear taught me about what is real and important?
• Why does that matter to me? Why might that matter to the world?

If you didn't sit with someone as you processed these questions, I highly encourage you to share what you've uncovered with a trusted friend. Talk through the stories and the agreements you've noted. Share how you see yourself living out that fear today and share what triggers you've noticed, as well. Invite their help to take steps toward what is true and good. When we encounter love, fear is driven out. Fear cannot exist where perfect love exists.

Let's choose to kick fear to the curb in 2017... The world needs our courageous actions, motivated out of abiding love and hope, more than ever before. Let's walk in healing, peace and freedom and bring love everywhere we go!

I'm Glad I Stayed

I thought about leaving my Orlando life behind last summer. Staying with friends in Colorado during a work trip in July, I imagined being grounded there again for the first time in what felt like a million years. Between and after meetings, I savored time with friends who have known me for nearly two decades. These friends have become my family and have loved me through and through for so many years. Returning to a regular rhythm with them was seamless and restorative. The trip bookends found me with Mom and Dad, taking in landscapes of summer green acreage and Rocky Mountain grandeur. I wondered what it would be like to build a life there—to return and begin anew.

My imagination took me as far as flying back to Florida, quietly packing up my things and sending them on a big truck, westbound. I'd hop in the car and hit the road. I didn't plan to say goodbye. I remember feeling like it wouldn't matter anyway. Work could be accomplished from a distance. Friends, well, I didn't know what to think about most of them. Feeling so disconnected and invisible, I figured I'd sort out any sore feelings on the phone later. Maybe I'd even come back to visit eventually, I reasoned. Maybe.

Nothing was holding me here and I could have gone, I suppose.

When my friend picked me up from the airport, we somehow ended up on the wrong road and took a longer way back into the city. I felt grateful to curl up in the passenger seat of my car as he navigated the course. A safe friend, indeed. The extended time provided by our directional oversight was so welcome. "I don't really want to be here," I told him. There were very few people I shared that with at the time and even since. I didn't really know how to be here and I didn't think I wanted to be here anymore.

A two and a half year journey down an unknown road was wearing on me. Work challenges felt heavy. Relationships, foreign. Deep loss from back-to-back shootings in the City Beautiful followed, weeks later, by the sudden death of a beloved friend rocked me into alertness and dropped me into an abyss-like grief. And I felt acutely alone and really, really lost.

My friend who died was a huge champion of me and a fresh direction I was moving toward in my career. Her enthusiasm and hope on my behalf meant so much to me as I continued to take baby steps forward. The loss of her and her presence in my life left an unmendable gap. She was gone and none of us could do a thing about it. (It's so true that our lives matter—so much more than we might ever comprehend...)

Looking back, I'm glad I stayed, though.

The forward path has looked a lot like this photograph, taken in the early morning on a rooftop not long ago. I think life is like this—there are many paths forward. We have choices and we make decisions. We can make them from places of pain or from hope. Often, I find we make them from a mixture of the two, honestly.  But prayerfully, we allow hope to carry us in spite of our pain. 

Pain has a way of dulling our senses and all at once, making us more aware. If we're willing to sit in it and really feel, I find that we can heal. Instead of running away, perhaps we stay. Instead of staying stuck, perhaps we take a step forward in one of the directions we're considering. Our motive in the choice is key. Why we're doing what we're doing matters. And, in the end, I know this is the reason why I didn't leave Orlando last summer. I would have been running away.

And now 2017 is here. I plan to do the inspired work of keeping my feet planted on the path I'm on right now. I anticipate there will be days when it's difficult. Building something from scratch brings its challenges for sure. I realize I have to keep letting people in—even when they appear disengaged or disinterested. What we've experienced in our stories influences the way we perceive the people in our lives. It's important to note that here, I think. Give people a chance to love you this year, if you would. I'm still learning. Maybe we can grow together in that way.

I told someone recently and I'll say it again here: I'm tired at the start of this New Year, but oh so hopeful. The sheer number of courageous steps I've taken in the past five months has really shown me how far I've come on this journey. I have felt surprised by my boldness and bravery. None of it has come without effort, though. And that's why I'm hopeful. I have seen my own ability to make hard choices to heal and to grow and I'm convinced that I will do more of the same in the days to come. For what it's worth, I hope you will, too.