I signed up to serve others and I find myself standing with a cafeteria tray, ducking into the phone booth too shy to step into what I set out to do/be/have. I signed up for this, I choose to do what I'm doing, I've spent more time than I could have imagined squirreled away putting this dream together, to serve and help you find freedom. I want to help you get out of your own way. What I am learning in real time is that there is no skipping being the student first. I am fighting myself and it is exhausting and messy. What advice would I give you? I've got lots, gotta start using it myself. So fucking humbling. You know what I never saw coming? That I would tell people my dreams and they'd be more in my corner than I am. I am fortunate to have a solid support system in my life, and they've booked the stage I claimed, they're even focusing the spotlight and I find myself shrinking away. Thanks, guys, but I don't think I can do it. Maybe later.
As my Grandma would say, "Oh, Hon. est. ly"
I heard a story recently about Ella Fitzgerald and her first performance. She never thought she'd be a singer, she wanted to be a dancer. Just before her debut performance as a dancer, she got stage fright and froze in her spot just off stage. The MC told her she had to come up with something, something had to fill that mic time. So she sang, something she thought nothing of, as a way to fill time. Imagine the irreplaceable sweetness that would be missing from the world had Ella Fitzgerald never sung.
I'm breaking the fourth wall of the self-help sphere and sharing from my wounds, and I may regret it, because this might sound whiny and victimy-y, and maybe this is the self-soothing crap I should save for my journal. Here's what I do know about this current crisis of confidence: I've been here before and I'll be back again and again. The idea that we learn something and then move on, never to look back, is false, hooey. No matter how defeating this experience I know I'll be back. That's human phenomena, life with this brain and these sets of thoughts, made by this particular life and culture and gender and various lenses. How do we end suffering? We stop believing that suffering is bad. We stop hanging on the idea that easy is good and hard is bad. Easy, hard, good, bad, messy, clean, just are.
I don't know how to get out of this current state, and I know that I will. Thoughts and feelings are fleeting. Once again I see that I'm in my own way. Thinking my way out of this is a spiraling rabbit hole so here I sit, letting life have me. It's so messy. So many tears and ache. I surrender.