Category Archives: Self-compassion

Doing or Saying One Thing A Day That Scares You

With all the writing in the popular press about the New Year and setting resolutions, intentions, or defining goals I couldn’t help stopping to reflect on how I treat the start of the new year. I do use it a time of reflection – to stop and look back over the past year and to launch a few intentions, dreams and desires for 2014. The reality is I do this type of reflecting regularly. It’s about living my life on purpose. I stop and ask myself what it means for me in this moment to be “on purpose”. The New Year is a spark to step into that reflection.

Because I’m reflecting regularly, the outcome is often to renew or reshape some intention I have expressed before. For example one intention I keep coming back to is Do One Thing a Day That Scares Me. Here’s why…

That intention has inspired me to be vulnerable. To speak my truth. To express my gifts. To let people know they matter to me. In summary – to take risks that come from revealing an inner part of myself. It has indeed been scary. And wonderful!

When I set that intention at the beginning of 2011 part of me had ideas like bungee jumping and other physical activities in mind. I had begun reading the work of Brené Brown on vulnerability and shame and I had been studying Non-Violent Communication for a few years, endeavouring to put it into practice. I came to realize what I had to say and how I reached out for connection – that I reached out for connection period! – were some of the scariest things I could ever do. Do one thing a day that scares me and Say one thing a day that scares me became interchangeable.

It meant noticing when I hesitated to make a phone call to a potential client, reminding myself of my intention, and then going for it even though I was scared. It meant submitting proposals for workshops and risking the rejection. It meant telling the people I love that I love them. It meant having conversations with a friend with cancer when I was anxious about saying the “wrong” thing. In all of these cases it could have been easier, less anxious, indeed less scary to just not do anything.

So why did I do them? Because I had set an intention? Is that what motivated me? I set my intention because I was curious about discovering what holds me back in my life. As I stepped further into that exploration, I discovered that a rather persistent voice was present. It was so persistent is was almost like white noise. I didn’t realize it was always there, the default station playing on my inner radio. And its public service or should I say dis-service message was “I am not enough.”

It is the voice of shame. It is the voice that can have me feeling “less than”. It is the voice that believes I won’t find connection, that I won’t be liked, that I won’t belong because of some aspect of self. Powerfully un-empowering stuff!

And so what did I do with this discovery? In Catherine world I read books on the subject and I take workshops. And I talk to my “digestors” – a small group of people with whom I feel a sense of safety and being held. (More on this group in a future post and why you might want to consider having such a group too.) My curiosity drives my learning and growth. My digestors give me the space to express what is percolating for me in that learning and growth process. They listen. They provide empathy. And when asked, they offer ideas, possibilities, advice, solutions. Through all of that I integrate. I endeavour to be gentle with myself. I move forward.

I’ve learned a great deal about shame and vulnerability in these last few years. Whatever I learn about myself becomes part of the work that I offer to the world. It is why I love being a Life Coach. I get to keep working on me (which even with its trials and tribulations I have a thirst to do) and then share that learning with my clients.

I hope you are seeing the value in stopping to reflect and launching your intentions, dreams, and desires. They can be an amazing catalyst for what comes next in your life. So I invite you to reflect on what it means to be “on purpose” in your own life. And why not consider doing one thing a day that scares you in the coming months? Wonder where it might take you…

To facilitate your journey I have a few offerings coming up that might be of interest:

1) Four consecutive Monday evenings – a program on vulnerability and shame for men through Manology beginning on January 13th, 2014. We look at that voice of “I am not enough” and how to strengthen the voice of “I am enough.” We’ll walk the bridge of shame resilience.

2) A one day workshop entitled “Life is One Big Improv” on March 8, 2014. This will be an interactive workshop that will blend theory with practice. We’ll explore shame and vulnerability concepts and then use a variety activities including improvisational theatre techniques as a way to try that learning on. An opportunity to discover where you hold yourself back – an opportunity to do one thing (or two) that scares you! A day to celebrate being enough.

More details can be found on my Schedule page.

Warmly and purposefully,

Catherine

No Such Thing As Mistakes

I’m getting the flash of the “X’s” in either red or bold black on the school assignments.

The years in school had a huge focus on right and wrong, on correcting mistakes. In some fields of study there is right and wrong. Two plus two is indeed 4, it is not 5 or any other number. We need to learn that. And yet that horrible feeling – at least for me anyway – that would come when I saw those X’s or the grade that meant I didn’t get full marks. It took me to that place of “not good enough”, that place of shame, and somehow that doesn’t seem best for learning.

I remember in particular an incident in grade 10. The assignment was to read a story and write your feelings about the characters. I did not find one of the characters very sympathetic and wrote this in my assignment. I found myself defending myself in front of the whole class and being told by the teacher that I was “walking on thin ice,” that my opinion was incorrect, that my feelings couldn’t be that. I don’t remember what my feelings were supposed to be, I just remember mine were wrong, to the tune of an F. This was the first F of my life. Life went on and I ultimately passed the class and Grade 10 with flying colours, yet I sure do remember that incident. Even now I’m feeling the tightness and anxiousness in my body as I recall that experience.

Incidents like these have influenced my life. For some, in those moments your voice gets louder. For me, I shrink, feel smaller, and experience that warm wash of shame. These experiences were not empowering – at least they didn’t feel that way in the moment.

Having them as part of my experience in this moment now, in who I am in the present does feel empowering. I can work with them in ways that enables me to feel bigger, stronger, more powerful in my life. One of the ways that I do that is to consciously, purposefully not use the language of mistakes, of right and wrong.

I’m more than willing to acknowledge those circumstances in which I make a choice, learn something after experiencing that choice and then perhaps saying “Wow, I wish I’d chosen differently,” or any sort of wishing for having done, said, or been different. Was I wrong or mistaken with the first choice? I believe not. I practice discernment. I generally don’t take decisions lightly. I am a lawful citizen.

I learn and with that learning I make new choices. That doesn’t make me wrong or mistaken. That makes me a reflective, purposeful learner. I’m happy to be one of those.

So I invite you to think about that voice in yourself that judges you as right/wrong, good/bad. Consider being a little gentler with yourself.

To close, here is one of my favorite quotes from Rumi:

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.

Part 1: Advanced Care Planning

In the work that I do with hospice and as I talk about death in other contexts as well, one of the topics that repeatedly comes up is advance care planning. My awareness has increased around the value of having a plan and a recognition that the pieces I currently have in place, a will and living will, do not feel sufficient for me. So to be in integrity with my own ideals/values, what I say, and how I show up in the world, I’m embarking on a journey with my desired outcome of having completed an Advanced Care Plan. I invite you to come on this journey with me – this is both a process – involving questions, conversations, reflections – and a likely set of documents. In this blog I’ll share my planning process and what resources I use along the way.

So what is Advance Care Planning?

Here are the two main documents I am using as I begin this journey and what they say Advance Care Planning is about.

1) Speak Up: Start the conversation about end-of-life care published by the Canadian Hospice Palliative Care Association.

Advance care planning is a process of reflection and communication, a time for you to reflect on your values and wishes, and to let others know your future health and personal care preferences in the event that you become incapable of consenting to or refusing treatment or other care.

Advance care planning means having discussions with family and friends, especially your Substitute Decision Maker – the person who will speak for you when you cannot. It may also include writing down your wishes, and may even involve talking with healthcare providers and financial and legal professionals.

You may never need your advance care plan – but if you do, you’ll be glad that it’s there and that you have had these conversations, to make sure that your voice is heard when you cannot speak for yourself

2) My Voice: Advanced Care Plan published by the BC Ministry of Health as a provincial guide for advance care planning.

Having a voice in decisions about your health care treatments is important. There may come a time when, due to illness or injury, you are incapable of expressing your treatment wishes to health care providers. By planning in advance, you can be sure that your family, friends and/or health care providers know your wishes, and can ensure these wishes are followed.

Here’s why I want to do an advanced care plan:

I believe that talking about death informs how I want to LIVE my life.
I’ve heard many stories of how families struggle to make health-based decisions when a loved one is incapacitated due to illness or injury. I know I can’t alleviate the struggle completely, but I certainly believe I can support my family by having conversations with them now, in the present moment, that will make my desires clear and help to inform their decisions later.
I want to be responsible with how my health care dollars are spent. Unnecessary procedures in the forms of ones I am not wanting to have add to the burden on the health care system.

In the coming months I’ll share what unfolds for me in my advance care planning process in the hopes that helps to inform your process. For now I invite you to get a hold of the documents/workbooks I’ve highlighted above and think about you and your family/friends might benefit from energy you put in to advance care planning.

NOTE: In locating these documents one of the things I’ve learned thus far is that there are a few versions of the My Voice floating out there. From what I can tell the most recent version is Feb 2012. I found it through the CHPCA website. They have links to other planning documents in additional to their Speak Up and the VCH My Voice. Here’s the link to where their planning section starts.

Telling A Different Story

I was reminded recently about the power of reframing. Reframing is when you tell a different story, a re-interpretation of some aspect or event in your life. Mine had to do with clearing out my storage locker. I have been wanting (and sort of not wanting) to make it happen for a few months now. I recently signed the piece of paper that says I’ll have the space clear for June 1. Signing was the way for me to “force” my hand – to create that deadline to move me into action. Here’s the general story I was telling:

I don’t want to deal with clearing out my storage locker. This going to be painful. How am I going to make this happen? This is going to be a hassle putting things online to sell, coordinating with people, meeting them at my storage locker, negotiating (if anybody even wants to buy anything), yeesh! Am I going to have to ask someone to help me? I can’t be in the locker and meeting someone at the entrance to the building at the same time. And what if I can’t get rid of anything? What will I do then? How I will get rid of what remains? It won’t fit in my car. I don’t want to just take it all to landfill. That’s not very considerate of the environment. I’ve got a deadline now. Why did I do that? Why didn’t I do a better job at getting rid of this stuff when I made my last move? I’ve been paying rent on this locker for a few months now – that’s money out the window given the low value of everything in it. I love some of that stuff. Part of me is really sad to see it go.

In the world of NVC, most of this would be labelled Jackal voice. The voice that is judgmental, critical, and generally not positive. Sometimes that voice speaks very loudly in my head. It brings me down. It zaps my energy to the point that sometimes I feel unable to muster up the motivation to even start a project. In this instance I was motivated because I’m trying to manage my budget differently right now and there was no way to justify what I was spending on the storage. It just didn’t make sense to hold on to the stuff for economic or sentimental reasons. Yet I was still having a hard time making this project happen.

Sometimes it is about taking one step. Getting a small “win” – trying something that is successful in its outcome. Small steps for me included getting into the storage locker and taking some pictures of things I wanted to sell along with some dimensions. I had a friend offer to help me with this so in the first round of picture taking I was supported. It ended up being another month’s worth of locker rental fees before I actually did something with those pictures, but having them in hand along with the support of a friend was a first step.

Then I started telling more friends about what I was trying to do – clear out my locker. I would tell them about what I had in there with the hopes that maybe a friend or two would take some of the stuff off my hands. That felt like it would be an easier way for it to unfold. Through that process I did pass on a few things. That meant I went to the locker a few times and some items actually came out. Another set of small steps.

With a few small steps under my belt I found some spaciousness over the whole thing. I was still in a grumbly frame of mind about it, but I also began to sense a light at the end of the tunnel. I began to feel like I might be able to make it happen. I knew I still needed a strong kick of something to really make me do it. For me that was signing the paper that said I would be out – and that my payments would be no more!

And then a friend came and took a few more things that created more spaciousness in the locker and in my sense of well-being. Yet another small step. With the literal space in the locker I was able to take more pictures and get the dimensions of some items. It was time to post the items online. Still resistance, but now a looming deadline.

I had tired to sell something on Craigslist a few months ago, and as I think about that, I realize it was one of my very first steps toward clearing out my storage locker. I wasn’t even selling something that was in storage at that time – it was something I had in my apartment – it served to help me see that I could sell something online and that it didn’t have to be too painful. Setting up the ad had been quick and kind of fun.

I took the next bold step of putting up a bunch of ads on Craigslist – descriptions, dimensions, and pictures of my goodies. I even chose to put some of the history – the sentiment – of the pieces in the ads, and I chose to acknowledge the pieces I was sad to see go.

Within about 15 minutes of placing the ads the first call came in. Metal garden ornament – “I’ll take it. Could we meet in about 45 minutes for the handoff?” More emails and phone calls on that one. It was gone already. In one of the phone calls the woman said she too had lived in the prairies (part of the sentiment I had included in my ad) and could see how the ornament would remind me of that. The man who made the first call and was the one who bought it off me was tickled pink to be buying it for his wife who was away. He knew she would enjoy it so it would be a surprise for her when she got home. He was recently retired and still figuring out what to do with his time.

And then the island/storage unit – the piece I was most worried about due to its size. It also had a lot of sentimental value, so was one of hardest for me to let go. A young couple were moving into a new apartment. They had recently finished school and were looking to furnish their new place. I enjoyed them so much I even threw in a carpet was I going to give to a thrift store.

“I sit on the sofa and work on my computer, but the coffee table is too low and it’s hurting my back. I think this desk with wheels will work well.” Off went the small yet functional metal desk.

Can you feel how my energy has shifted? My story started with this very negative voice. I’m currently in the energy of really enjoying this project. Sure, it has had some hassles. What I hadn’t appreciated was the really lovely people I might meet along the way. I haven’t had a lot of emails and phone calls, but I didn’t need to have a lot. Each of the people I spoken with bought something and each of them was delightful to connect with. Hmmmm – why didn’t I start with that story – a story of the possibility of fun, adventure, connection?

Here’s where the self-empathy part fits in. That jackal voice earlier was some fear talking. A lovely part of each of us – that fear voice that is there to keep us each safe. I was walking into uncharted territory. I’ve never had to clear out a storage locker before. Lots of unknown and uncertainty means my needs for control and clarity flare up – unmet in that moment. My need to appear competent – triggered by the voice of “What if I can’t make it work?” – was flaring up too.

I’ve been reminded of some lessons I’ve heard before and I guess I needed to hear and experience again.

The first is to take small steps. It is okay to be tentative, dipping in a big toe – trying something – without having to figure out it all out. This includes being gentle with self – with whatever approach I might need to take and to give myself time. Yes, sometimes things/projects will take longer than I want them to.

Second, when I’m in that negative, jackal voice, here’s a open invitation to try a different story, or at least play with the “What if…” story. What if the project could unfold with ease? What if I could have some fun? What if it could mean I meet some really interesting people? What if I could own being sad to see some of the stuff go and give myself permission to grieve? What if it is a bit scarey and that’s okay too?

I’m amazed at how different my reality has turned out to be from the story I first started with. I’m delighted to report the new story. I’m reminded of the power of story and how noticing my story and inviting a new one has the power to change what might be labelled a negative energy story into something very positive.

And finally I’m reminded of the power of sharing our stories. When we keep things bottled inside, it can often continue to feed our negative cycles. Even if the first story we are telling is a negative one, tell it any way. As I shared my story and began to get support with friends – those were the seeds of shifting my energy and being able to paint a new story.

What stories are you telling right now that aren’t feeling good? How might you be able to tell those stories a little differently? Start small – give yourself some permission to “What if…”. Give yourself permission to have a different story. Give yourself permission to find a story that feels better. Whatever your story, share it with your friends.

P.S. As of June 1, the storage locker is empty and I’m no longer making payments!

The Other Side of Hope

Hope. Hopelessness. Two sides of the same coin?

I’ve been thinking about hope recently, inspired by a book I just finished reading entitled Lessons For The Living: Stories of Forgiveness, Gratitude and Courage at the End of Life by Stan Goldberg. Stan is a cancer survivor and volunteers in a hospice. He brings what he has learned from these experiences into the book.

Here’s an excerpt from his chapter entitled “The Dilemma of Hope.”

Poof! Not only did hope disappear, but as I looked back on who I became during the intervening time between the onset of hope and learning that my dream wasn’t going to be fulfilled, it wasn’t pleasant realizing that I had allowed hope to let the new me slip away. People often contrast hope with hopelessness, as if the former is always positive and the latter always negative. It’s a false dichotomy based on a simplistic understanding of the role of hope. For Joyce [a hospice patient], hope prevented her from living in the present and appreciating the marvelous things she had accomplished. For me, hope transformed the scientist and humanist in me into someone who put all faith on the throw of the dice. Worse, for eighteen months it robbed me of being more genuine with the people I loved.

The absence of hope isn’t a negative state. The disappearance of hope put me squarely into the present…I no longer invest energy in hoping that the cancer will remain under control — I’m too busy living.

Past, present, future. We need all of them. Sometimes looking at the past enables us to reframe it so that we can live in the present. So that those hooks of past experiences don’t weigh us down, rather they inspire us to go forth in our lives. And sometimes those memories from the past bring us great joy in the present as we remember a fun adventure or a now past loved. And yet we can’t live in those past stories, we live here. Now. In the present moment.

Hope takes us, me, to the future. I want hope. I want hope that things can be different. It is part of what inspires me. I help people connect with their own answers in the belief that they can achieve something different for their next moment. That’s hope. Maybe it is even beyond, more, deeper than hope.

At the same time I don’t want hope to take me out of connecting with this moment – of seeing what is in front of me right here, right now. Of being with what is.

I can also feel an edge to hope – the edge that says I want something different and yet I have to consider it might not happen. If I know it will happen, then it is knowing, belief – beyond hope.

I’m reflecting on hope in the context of a good friend of mine who is living with a lot of pain right now. I so hope for him to be pain free. There it is – that edge of hope that says maybe he’ll never be pain free. In the present moment I find myself having to let in his pain and that’s uncomfortable for me. It hurts to see someone I care about in pain. Having hope seems easier. It takes me out of having to fully accept his reality in this moment. It enables me to side step the depth of my own emotions.

So if I don’t have hope, is it hopeless? No. Hopeless feels dark and I don’t feel dark. There is a deeper knowing here that regardless of what tomorrow brings, I’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. It may not be pretty, but it will be okay. It will be what that moment of life brings.

So perhaps the other side of hope, as Stan suggests is presence. And perhaps it is belief, knowing. Surrendering to what is.

Spinach Between My Teeth

Have you ever been to a two hour meeting where you met a bunch of new people, laughed, and shared stores and then upon arriving home from said meeting realized you had spinach between your front teeth the whole time?

Yup. Just had that experience.

First feelings – mortification, embarrassment. Convinced they think I’m an idiot – ah that warm wash of shame that says “I’m not good enough.” My needs for belonging, connection, acceptance, acknowledgment, competence – absolutely not being met in that first instance of seeing dinner’s spinach pizza between my teeth.

Why didn’t anyone say anything?

Yes, truly, why don’t people say anything? I spoke to several new people that evening and no one said anything. It is interesting to consider the “spinach between the teeth” scenario from their perspective. So let me put myself in their shoes by considering what happens to me when I encounter someone who has spinach (or some other visible food item) between their teeth. Here are the some of the voices in my head I can recall from a recent “incident”:

Do I tell them they have spinach between their teeth? I don’t want to interrupt them. Gosh this could feel embarrassing. I don’t want to embarrass them. How do I do this discretely?

What I’m noticing in my body as I type those sentences is my discomfort. Discomfort triggered by thoughts of their discomfort and it is my own discomfort that stops me from saying anything. I don’t want to risk having to be present for their discomfort. How paradoxical! Rather than step in and potentially easily resolve, I hold back, shut down in a way and experience my discomfort rather than theirs.

So I’m imaging all those people who were talking with me were experiencing their own discomfort with my spinach.

What to do?

Step in to whatever is alive for you. I advocate that for both the Spinachee and the Noticer. So in the first instance for Spinach Smile Me I get to once again practice self-connecting and offering some self-empathy. My first reactions were just that, my first reactions – the embarrassment, the shame. Triggered by my lovely needs – the desire to connect, the desire to be perceived as competent. The desire to be noticed – to be seen – not for my spinach but for who I truly am. And isn’t it possible that the conversations I had were worthy, engaging, connecting – with or without spinach!?!

And for the Noticer Me – the one who is staring (or trying not to) at the spinach in someone else’s teeth – I can step into that discomfort too. Sure, it might be a little awkward to point out the spinach. Those are my thoughts of how it might be – it doesn’t actually have to be. Why not try it? I can notice my discomfort, love myself for being concerned about how my words might impact the other and go forth anyway. It could be as simple as:

“I’m just going to quickly mention you have some spinach between your teeth.”

“Oh. Gosh, would hate to get home and discover it in the mirror myself tonight. Grateful you mentioned it. What was I saying about…”

Change of Address

I’m a controller. In other words I like control and I try to control my life. I understand and appreciate that this is not always the best strategy for life. I have over the years tried to let go, be gentle with my need for control.

I get that it is grounded in fear – worries that my needs won’t be met if I’m not in control. And what if I actually do trust somebody and they let me down? If I control it, by doing it myself for example, then I don’t have to worry about that trust or depending on someone thing.

Recently I find I’m asking myself, in a very loving, kind playful voice, “So how’s that control life thing working for you Catherine?” For as much as I try to control the situation (probably more truthfully stated as try to control the people in the situation) life – the Universe – has a way of reminding me I am so not in control.

Here’s my latest example. I have to laugh, because if I don’t, I might cry!

Due to one circumstance or another I found myself moving around quite a bit. Part of it involved a forced move due the condo I was renting being sold. Part of it involved deciding to go to a retreat centre for 5 weeks and book-ending the retreat with a road trip. And I knew once I returned from the trip, I’d be getting yet another new address because returning meant I’d be looking for a new place to live.

“I know,” I thought, “I’ll get one of those mailboxes in place like a UPS store. I’ll pick a convenient location so that way if I move, I can still easily get to it. And if I travel they can mail whatever arrives into the box to me. It will be great to use as my business address anyway. So perfect! Implement that and then no more change of address requests required. Maybe ever!” With this logic I did a little happy dance and have proceeded to move most, if not all, of my mail to the address of my new mailbox. I was proud of myself! I had found a solution – a way to control how things might unfold in the future in my life.

Went to said mailbox today and what did I find? A notice. “What did the notice say?” you might be asking. It was a notice to inform me that the store that is the keeper of my mailbox is MOVING! And could I inform whomever I needed to of my CHANGE OF ADDRESS!!

I re-read the notice hoping it was a joke – that perhaps I had read something incorrectly. Nope. I could get really frustrated with this if I wanted to. I have put in a lot of effort worrying about change of addresses in the last while. I had practiced sound judgement to find a solution! This wasn’t supposed to happen. This didn’t factor in my scenario of life.

In the end I’m laughing, thinking about the Serenity Prayer, asking myself “So how’s the controlling life thing working for you Catherine?”

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Reinhold Niebuhr

Perhaps at this point I could simply acknowledge that I don’t know what my life is going to look like a year from now. I don’t even know what it is going to look like tomorrow. I can have some idea, but I can’t know it all. I certainly can’t control it all.

So I might as well accept that I’ll be filing “Change of Address requests” for the rest of my life. When, how, under what circumstances, no idea!

Fear of Success

I’m presently listening to the book entitled The Four Spiritual Laws of Prosperity: A Simple Guide to Unlimited Abundance by Edwene Gaines. I’ve explored prosperity principles in my own life for a while now and have come to appreciate that having less can feel like more. In this exact moment I make less money than I have in a long time and yet my life feels richer, fuller, and more rewarding than ever. That said, there is still work to be done.

Edwene describes prosperity as:

a healthy body
relationships that work all the time
work that you love
money – all you can spend

Over the past 4 years I’ve put loads of energy into getting healthy, finding work that I love – my purpose – and learning tools for and stretching myself in relationship. My study of vulnerability, Non-Violent Communication, Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction, Improvisational Theatre, Interpersonal Neurobiology – all of these inform the work I do, my relationship with my Self, and how I show up and am in relationship with others. My learning, the journey, will never end yet I can look back over the last four years and acknowledge and celebrate that I am not where I was. I DO FEEL HAPPY and it does not feel phoney to say LIFE IS GOOD!

And yet…

Financially I’m anxious. And when I get to the core of it, I see clearly that it is ME holding ME back. There is a fear of stepping fully into this life I say I want. I get scared when I think of being successful. I feel overwhelmed. What if it doesn’t work out that way I’m envisioning? I’ve been a do it all myself kind of gal and yet I know I can’t do it all myself to realize the dreams I have. I will need to depend on other people. I will need to ask for help. Yikes!

We humans are genius at our own games. We have something called defense mechanisms – ways to stay safe – or so we lead ourselves to believe. So in my fear of success my defense mechanism that comes into play is to keep myself out of the game. If I don’t step into the game, then I can’t lose. I can’t be proven wrong. I can’t feel disappointed. The irony is that I still feel disappointed. I still feel like I am losing – a sense of being unfulfilled.

And this in turn is tied to my belief (or lack there of) in self. Yup, we’re back to shame and vulnerability again. Self-doubt can be crippling. I know. I live it quite regularly. We deserve, I deserve to prosper. I am not a bad person if I am financially successful because really, can I be bad person for sharing my gifts?

So I’m working on my fear of success, or as Edwene suggests, I’m expanding my bliss tolerance. I’m letting those visions of a successful me dance around in my head. I’m regularly saying aloud this quote from Marianne Williamson about letting my light shine.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
― Marianne Williamson, Return to Love

And as I review her words, I’m reminded that we are all worthy. That what I want for others, their own peace, happiness, contentment, calls me forth to be my fullest self, to step into the idea of successfully sharing my gifts.

So I start where I often do – with some self-compassion. I acknowledge my fear of success. At the same time, I step into envisioning success and creating feelings of success in my body. And I try stuff. I schedule a meeting to share my ideas. I schedule a workshop. I make an ask for help. And as I do all of these things, I see that I am okay. I see that yes, I can do it. Everyday another step towards a successful, prosperous life and a step towards believing even more fully in self and that which guides me.

Catherine Hajnal

Life Fundamentals: Acknowledging pain and loss. Igniting hope and possibility.