For a very long time I thought that my absolute worst fear was that of venturing out into the emotional unknown, risking my heart to be broken a second time, by you, this time forever. Now I know that there is another, even worse fear: the ultimate fear of missing out on possibly the very best thing that could ever happen to me in my entire life, if only I mustered the courage to overcome my absolute worst fear – for a chance to experience true unconditional love and fearless wholehearted living. With you.
The last few months were a bit of a mini earthquake for me. The big earthquake had already happened before, when I lost all that I had held dear, my marriage, my emotional home and my job satisfaction. The mini earthquake came as an aftermath of what had happened. It’s all the realizations I have had since. And they are no less disturbing than the previous events. The only thing that’s “mini” about them is that they are not easily seen on the outside. As they happened on the inside.
I’ve been ruminating a lot lately about my need for a career change and the fears going along with it. It hasn’t served me well. The rumination I mean. Not the realization that I need to change careers. In fact, ruminating about it has amplified my fears instead of calming them, reminding me of a poem I once read about bad habits: There is a hole in my sidewalk.
I entered the elevator, pressed -7 and went down seven floors. It took me a while to actually descend. I could see my body go down, but I wasn’t there myself. I mean my brain, my consciousness were still up at 0. I tried again, and again, until it worked. Finally I descended, all of me. Slowly, going down to -7.
Today I feel utterly depleted. I spent the whole of yesterday ruminating about what to do about the realization I had come to in my last blog: that I need to leave my job. Since then a fierce battle has been going on inside me: Fear and anxiety have joint forces and are building a huge, seemingly insurmountable wall, with chain-link wire and bottle shards cemented on top of it, around the tiny seed of hope and trust that, if I really did leave my job, everything might just fall into place.