August 2020
The 17th.
“All speech is an exposure.” —The Great Fire by Shirley Hazzard
I think I might be ready to write again. To free-write, I mean. I have played with allowing myself to be freer with my journaling practice, using drawings and quotes rather than writing this way, but I have not loved it. It has felt wrong. Hollow.
My notebook has been my friend for such a long time. It has felt strange to give it up for even a short while. But I think it was useful. It’s helped me loosen my grip on things that give me a feeling of control and wholeness. I know those are only illusions. I don’t need any particular system or set of tools to thrive. And yet, they are useful to me when I can hold them loosely. Tender discipline, as Jocelyn Glei calls it. I think I’m beginning to experience what that feels like.
Now I’m back, and I don’t have words. Today has been a pretty wordless day anyway. I’ve been teaching a class on Gather the People, which has been fine. The season for Gather the People is coming to a close, like so many other things in my life. I’m excited for the next chapter, and I’m grateful for this life. It isn’t easy, but it’s good. I have many things I’m responsible for, and I am working hard at those while also just…trusting. It’s strange. I’m so used to being worried that sometimes I start to worry that I’m not worried enough. Then I remind myself that worrying does nothing except ruin the present moment. I am content, and I will continue watering and pruning this little life.
The 19th.
Morning pages! What a strange thing to not have written them for so long. And to do so intentionally, too. I’m noticing a bit of resistance to them now, honestly. I used to think I needed them in order to process, and now I know that’s not true. I do think they’re useful, but I feel myself getting impatient with them.
I know some of that is anxious energy around showing up in the world. I have been doing this public Roam project, and I don’t want it to lapse. I don’t want to lose momentum.
But I’m not going to lose momentum. I am learning to be okay with slow, steady progress. Learning to be okay with mediocrity at some level. I don’t need to be perfect or brilliant. I just need to establish a rhythm of showing up.
So I’m gently, tenderly prodding myself to follow through with the rituals that allow me to be grounded and present in my work. Like morning pages. Even if some part of me feels impatient to get started.
The other thing that is true is that I feel a bit guilty/avoidant that I’m not working on my book today. Since it’s the last day of the Gather the People class, I’m giving myself a pass on it. But the thing is, I really want to integrate this new book with this public Roam project. And I don’t know how I’m going to do that.
The 20th.
“Acknowledging fear is not a cause for depression or discouragement. Because we possess such fear, we also are potentially entitled to experience fearlessness. True fearlessness is not the reduction of fear, but going beyond fear.” —Chogyam Trungpa, Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior
As I begin to read about the Shambhala Warrior being without doubt, I started to really feel my own doubt and fear. I don’t know if it’s manufactured or if it’s because I haven’t let myself feel the fear. Because I haven’t. When I’ve felt afraid, I’ve generally tried to stay at the shallow end of that fear. There are so many things that have to fall in place for our team’s survival, much less thriving. And all I know how to do is walk the path we’re currently on. Nothing else I have ever done has worked.
Am I being foolish to be so wholeheartedly committed to this path? Is there something I’m not seeing? Am I being too proud? I don’t know. I just wish I had been able to move faster. I wish I’d had the courage to go all-in on my vision sooner. I wish I’d had the clarity that I now have sooner. But I didn’t. And now we don’t have much room for learning or making mistakes. It feels pretty scary, especially in the world we live in right now.
And it is scary, to have this big thing to maintain, and so many people’s livelihoods. But the only thing there is to fear really is embarrassment. And of course, fear itself. I know that we’ll help people to find other opportunities if we can’t make this work. It’s okay. Our employees will be okay. We will be okay.
I think the scariest thing is…am I doing enough? Am I? Am I just being stubborn about the things that don’t work/have never worked for me? I don’t know. But I can’t be different than who I am. It’s not possible. And it’s not worth it, even if it was.
There is still lots of time for miracles to happen though. There is always the possibility of our biggest client giving us more budget to work with. There is always the possibility of landing a new client that we didn’t even see coming.
Suddenly I feel a sense of peace. All is well, and all will be well. I’m going in the right direction, the only direction I can go and keep myself whole. It is going to be alright, whatever happens.
The 23rd.
“The turnings of life seldom show a sign-post; or rather, though the sign is always there, it is usually placed some distance back, like the notices that give warning of a bad hill or a level railway-crossing.” —The Custom of the Country by Edith Wharton
I get scared sometimes. I know it’s a useless feeling, and worse than useless. But I feel it. Sometimes I feel lucky to have this job that is so well-suited for me, and sometimes I feel the weight of the responsibility pressing down, down, down. And I wonder if I can do it, if my approach is what’s needed when there are so many urgent problems to solve. Well, mainly one. Our pipeline. It feels harder than it’s ever felt.
We are just beginning to have a clear, compelling message. We are just beginning to actively create offers that we’re gathering people around. We are just beginning to include the leadership of the whole team in this, and developing a common voice around it. Is there enough time?
It makes me feel nauseous, what I’m responsible for, and at the same time, one word from our biggest client, one new project opportunity, and we could be feeling safe again. Temporarily. “If nothing changes” is what our runway is based on, and yet change is all that is guaranteed to us.
And we are doing what we need to be doing. As adrienne maree brown says, no amount of freaking out is going to make this job any easier.
My job now is to do what I can do to manage my own anxiety so I can be a non-anxious presence for others—for Adam, for Eric, for Mark, for Lynn…for everyone. Whether I like it or not, I am the main regulator of this system. I need to manage my anxiety for me, but I also need to do it for others.
Today is supposed to be a “play” day for me. My impulse is to ignore that and continue my reading/note-taking from yesterday or to work on this &yet vision Roam project. But my wiser self knows that play is truly what I need. Even though I want to buckle down or else flop over in a sobbing heap, I’m going to play instead. I’m going to do what feels good, even if ironically, that doesn’t feel good. I’m going to sit with my fear. I’m going to let the tears come if they need to. I’m going to stay open to all of it.
And I’m not going to shut down from others. I will take the space I need, but I won’t close off. I will notice that tendency, and whatever irritation or impatience comes with that.
I want so much for our team. I want to succeed, yes, but also I want to succeed at something worthwhile. I want to make the world better. I want to do business better. I want to see this vision that has taken root in my heart to blossom.
I have been through so much heartache. Our team has been through so much heartache. I don’t want that for us anymore. I want us to have some victory moments. And I want it to feel so good because it’s right in the direction of our dreams.
Maybe working on this vision is play for me today. Maybe it’s the reminder I need that we’re going in a direction that is right, and true, and good.
We will see. I’m going to get started and see where it leads me.