Fear.
I just watched a forty-five minute talk on being "Scared Shitless".
I talked about fear a little, in a post I wrote for work on the 40-Days of Yoga blog. I was thinking about that as I listened to the talk. I have so much fear in me.
I'm afraid my thesis isn't good enough.
I'm afraid I won't finish it in time and will suffer the shame of that. Again. Except this time it will hurt worse because I've been working on it so hard and consistently.
I'm afraid I'm not a good writer after all.
I'm afraid that after I do finish my thesis, I'll never write anything worth attempting to publish.
Afraid I'll never find that story I need to tell.
I'm afraid it will be a very long time, if ever, before I find someone worth loving again.
I'm afraid of having to go through difficult times in life alone again.
Those are the things I fear most.
In the course of his talk, Merlin points out the obvious-- that all of us are afraid. That every single successful person feels, to some extent, like a fraud and that everyone will suddenly discover they are not as talented and lovely and smart as first assumed. That perhaps they were a one-hit wonder and their best work is behind them. That they don't deserve all the tiny beautiful things that life has to offer. They are unworthy.
Finishing my thesis isn't just about completing a particular research project in writing that will prove to people of the world that I am a Master of Communications. It has become a tool or a symbol (or both) of exercising all the demons I've been dealing with since my magical years of undergrad ended and graduate school began. All the losses and the rebuilding. I have grown so much in these past four years and I am proud of the person I am becoming.
My battles are not battles of survival. I am fortunate enough to have been born into a family, a life and a position that I fight the battle only of personal growth, of enlightenment as a human. I am so absurdly fortunate in that. I don't have to fight for water or food or not to become food or collateral in someone else's war. The fate of no world but my own stupid little one rests on my shoulders.
All the useless days will add up to something in the end. I believe that.
Love from a Sarah
I talked about fear a little, in a post I wrote for work on the 40-Days of Yoga blog. I was thinking about that as I listened to the talk. I have so much fear in me.
I'm afraid my thesis isn't good enough.
I'm afraid I won't finish it in time and will suffer the shame of that. Again. Except this time it will hurt worse because I've been working on it so hard and consistently.
I'm afraid I'm not a good writer after all.
I'm afraid that after I do finish my thesis, I'll never write anything worth attempting to publish.
Afraid I'll never find that story I need to tell.
I'm afraid it will be a very long time, if ever, before I find someone worth loving again.
I'm afraid of having to go through difficult times in life alone again.
Those are the things I fear most.
In the course of his talk, Merlin points out the obvious-- that all of us are afraid. That every single successful person feels, to some extent, like a fraud and that everyone will suddenly discover they are not as talented and lovely and smart as first assumed. That perhaps they were a one-hit wonder and their best work is behind them. That they don't deserve all the tiny beautiful things that life has to offer. They are unworthy.
Finishing my thesis isn't just about completing a particular research project in writing that will prove to people of the world that I am a Master of Communications. It has become a tool or a symbol (or both) of exercising all the demons I've been dealing with since my magical years of undergrad ended and graduate school began. All the losses and the rebuilding. I have grown so much in these past four years and I am proud of the person I am becoming.
My battles are not battles of survival. I am fortunate enough to have been born into a family, a life and a position that I fight the battle only of personal growth, of enlightenment as a human. I am so absurdly fortunate in that. I don't have to fight for water or food or not to become food or collateral in someone else's war. The fate of no world but my own stupid little one rests on my shoulders.
All the useless days will add up to something in the end. I believe that.
Love from a Sarah