My ass just tapped me on the shoulder.
I’m standing on the other side of the abyss, the good one. And I wanted to let you all know that the ground here is high and dry, nearly heady.
Because I read your comments carefully – and because, as far as I can tell, we’re both human – I’m going to guess that at one point or another you’ve stood on the scary side of the abyss just like I did before I got to the cushy side.
You wanted to do something, you needed to do something…but the canyon that stood between you and accomplishment just looked too damn big, wide, menacing. Impossible, you said. And sat down.
My alarm goes off at 4:30. I jump out of bed and look out the window. It’s snowing. I smile smugly at the snow. Bring it, I think smugly. Pull on my layers of Capilene, my bright orange hat, my running shoes. And head out for an eight mile run before I go to work.
This used to be my norm. Miles run, laps swum, heart pounded, sweat drenched – before the sun rose.
And then my body abruptly took on new super powers forms of exercise: first, it grew another human being; then, it made milk. Needless to say, my body was preoccupied with performing miracles. Too busy to hit the trails or the pool.
But, last spring, something changed. My ass literally tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Um, I’m thinking we should shift things back into high gear…you?’
Which is when I realized that I was standing on that cliff. On the scary side of the abyss. I had a lot of reasons why I couldn’t take the leap:
- I’m too old.
- My body forgot how.
- Once you get past a certain point, it’s just pointless.
- I don’t have time.
- I’m so frickin’ tired.
- Have you seen my parents? (I love them and they’re beautiful, but they don’t have super model bodies. I’m just sayin’.)
In the middle of this tirade, I ran into a good friend who had just finished a long rollerblade, and she told me, “It gets you right here”, and she grabbed her butt. “Makes it burn,” she said. And my ass took notice. And, then it tapped me on the shoulder again. I took the bait. I didn’t think, just started to move again.
I had really believed all of my reasons why I couldn’t do this, but they just weren’t true. Bodies are amazing – they snap back in a way that is extraordinary. Minds do too. My ‘get up and go’ tape started playing again, as if I’d simply hit play again after a long moment with the pause button down. We both quickly forgot how long that moment had been.
Now, it’s been five months. And someone recently told me that my belly looks the same as it did when I was 16. Is that really true? Um, ish. Is it a miracle? Nah. I just think that I got way too comfortable on the pitiful side of the abyss. Too shlumpy to realize the infinite possibilities hanging out across the way.
Sometimes life feels like a series of cliff dives – scary, exhilarating, progressive. The above experience being just one of my abysses. For you, it might be finally going to law school, having a baby, getting up on that karaoke stage, or – drumroll, please – writing (creatively, professionally, bloggingly).
Whatever it is, I’ll save you a seat on the other side. Believe me, if you don’t already know, the view is fabulous.
Image credit: Scampercom
Filed under How To, Writing | Tags: creative writing, how to write, self, self-doubt, self-esteem, self-improvement, Writing | Comments (21)A tale of two bags
This is what happened to me last night:
Women on Fire
I went to hear a phenomenal speaker, executive coach, the founder of Women on Fire and the author of the book by the same name, Debbie Phillips. She talked about, well, being a woman on fire – the steps that you have to take for courage, inspiration, following your heart and the like. She was funny and motivating and charming – and everyone was très fired up.
And, then, Debbie invited us to have an experience. We each wrote on a card the following three things:
- What is your biggest accomplishment from the past year?
- What are you fired up about right now?
- What do you need to help turn that fired up thing into an accomplishment?
Speaking out
We all wrote down our answers and then got into groups of four to discuss them. Five minutes later, Debbie asked people to stand up in front of the room (120+/- women) and share. If you haven’t noticed, I have a big mouth and I jumped right up – though not really because of my inability to keep my mouth shut.
The thing I’m fired up about is the writing of my book and the big mama publishing house that’s interested in it – but I’m watching myself stand off to the left of this fact. Do you know what I mean? I’m so excited, but when I tell people I feel like I’m peering around the trophy, not holding it square in front of my gut. I have a toe in the shoes, but I’m not standing in them. The news is too big. It is too much ‘everything I’ve ever wanted’. So, I thought, well, I’ll just get up in front of all of these women and say it, loud and proud. And I’ll feel it, believe it, own it.
After all, Debbie said again and again how important this process was – to be on fire and share it in the safe company of other women on fire. She said safe and connection and support so often during her talk, each enveloping and practically obliterating my fear. So I stood up. I said what I was on fire about. People clapped and cheered. Afterwards, many of the women asked me about the book and gave me huge hugs…
Pause
I’m going to pause now and tell you that someone very near, dear and wise to me believes that we have miraculous powers of manifestation and creation. That we call to us exactly what we need when we need it.
Obviously I’m struggling with some fired-up issues, which is one of the reasons I wanted to attend Debbie’s talk in the first place. I felt pulled to be around other women and to be inspired. Debbie herself says it best:
“I’ve always been inspired by the energy of brilliant, dynamic, caring women coming together to create something more vibrant than what they could on their own. I live near the ocean on Martha’s Vineyard and call this my ‘rising tide lifts all boats’ theory.”
Yes! So, according to my friend, I created this event last night so that I could experience the rising tide. But what about all of the worry and self-doubt? Where’s that energy going? What’s it creating?
Un-Pause
…and then BLAM. A woman standing right in front of me, eyeing me with a hardy dose of skepticism and perhaps a little disgust quivering about her upper lip, says, “Soooo…what’s this ‘book’ about?” I told her, and I swear on my MacBook, she says, “and they want you to write it?” As if she was questioning Hitler’s ability to pen a benevolent history of the Jewish people.
The safety had disappeared, vanished. I wanted to call Superman and beg him to fly backwards around the Earth several times so that I could pull the fire-laced words back into my mouth. Keeping them safe…you know…inside.
And so it is…
I’m carrying two big bags around on my shoulders. One is full of the excitement and thrill of a dream being realized. The other is a sack of shit: self-doubt, creative blockage, paranoia, isolation and fear. And when I walked into that room – both sacks were waiting for me to confront, absorb and choose between.
The good bag was warm and spirited – it led me to achieve my answer to #3 (What Do I Need?) – which is a stable, consistent group of women that meets regularly to share, support and inspire each other. I started forming it last night, and I can’t wait to get started. I seek community.
The bad bag was a mean, nasty, seething troll. Competition, greed, insecurity, doubt…they all live there.
I’m going with the good bag.
Whew!!! It feels good to say that out loud.
Who’s with me?
Image courtesy of anikaviro
Filed under Critical Copywriting, How To, Networking | Tags: creative writing, creativity, debbie phillips, inspiration, motivation, self-doubt, support, women, women on fire, Writing | Comments (28)
