Sometime back, a friend and I were brainstorming how they could document a pivot in their career. They were quite clear: I don’t want to put anything on social media because my people are used to seeing me in a certain way and I’m not ready to overhaul that image.
As I listened, there was a part of me that wanted to say “don’t be a victim of your own reputation,” but what I said instead was, “I understand your fears.” I added that instead of fighting your fears or negotiating with them, what if you worked within the boundaries your fears have set?
What I noticed almost immediately was how both of us relaxed. We started brainstorming and every time we would come up with an idea, I would ask, “do you think you can do this?” They would say yes or no. Our focus became not on the no but on all the yes we received.
It got me thinking about the role of fear in my life.
I am a very fearful person. But I am also quite courageous – because one cannot exist without the other. Whenever I want to do something, my first reaction is excitement, followed by fear. This fear usually shows up in one of three ways: freeze (analysis-paralysis), flight (not doing what I want to do) or fight (anger at myself for not being able to do even this much).
In most cases, I get into a loop of negotiating with my fear. Cajoling it, getting it to see my viewpoint. But while I was speaking to my friend, I realized that as soon as I get into a negotiation, I have already lost.
My fear does not understand logic. It does not understand that when I want to do something, it is because I have made a decision. Its only job is to tell me, “This is outside what is comfortable. Why are you doing something outside our parameters?”
If I ask my fear dikat kya hai, my fear turns around and asks me the same question: sab sahi toh chal raha hai, dikat kya hai, change kyun karna hai kuch bhi?
So I asked myself what if I treat fear as a check post? What if when fear pops up, I pause and find a baby step that will not trigger the existential crisis? Instead it will help me to gently push the boundary of that fear.
What if instead of ignoring the no that my body is signalling, I listen to it, take a step back and say, okay, what if we do it like this instead?
The imagery is quite funny in my head. A new idea feels like planning to jump off a cliff, which is why my nervous system immediately sends an “abort, abort” signal.
To address it, I could tell my body: hey I have a parachute, is it okay to jump now? Maybe it says yes. Maybe it says no. Maybe the baby step that my body will accept is to build a staircase down instead.
And when all else fails, I allow the fear to rule – for now – until my stubbornness beats the fear and I come back to try again. Because it’s okay to come back another day. I don’t need to sort everything out today. What will help in this is to look at myself with curiosity and not exasperation.
For Letter X, written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z
tales of Suchita 
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