Whispers of Giving Up
The sound of the BART train wakes me from my restless sleep. It takes me a moment to figure out where I am.
One of the challenges of being on the road so much this year is that I’m a little out of sorts for a moment or two when I wake up, until I remember where in the world I am.
This time, I’m home in my bed.
The thought of being home makes me smile. I pull my grey and white duvet up over my head, snuggling back in for what I am hoping will be some additional rest.
My mind has other plans.
It begins to process almost immediately, resisting my insistence that it stay quiet for just a little bit longer. And my thoughts hit right to the heart of my recent anxieties.
“What if you’re doing all this work and it leads nowhere?” my inner critic has apparently been awake for hours, ready to spring this limiting story on me.
“What if I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be?” I retort
“Well played.” Its response
Not to be deterred…
My mind rattles off all the ways that I am not yet where I’d like to be. It reminds me of how much work it has taken to get to this point and how the rewards, in my mind’s interpretation, have not yet matched the level of effort.
Most times when this internal dialog is going on, I’m in a place where I can observe and recognize the inaccuracy of these thoughts. Then, there are times like now, especially when I’m worn down and not feeling 100%, where I start to believe these scarcity ideas.
It’s a slippery slope.
The momentum can pick up quickly and if I’m not careful, I can find myself riding a run-away train to nowhere positive.
“Maybe it’s time to give up,” the words come through as a whisper, as if even my ego mind is afraid to say this too loud.
I don’t respond.
“I think it’s time to give up.” This time, the sentiment is louder and a bit more convincing.
Slowly, I digest the words.
This pondering brings me to what feels like a crossroad. I look to the left. Look to the right. I wonder if there is a decision to be made or if I’m letting fear cloud the path.
It’s in these moments that part of me wants to pull the plug.
I want to make a choice, even if it’s not the highest and best because the unknown feels overwhelming. It. Feels. Scary.
Fear. Exhaustion. Doubt.
The goal for my own personal journey is to step back, take a breath, go for a run or take a nap BEFORE I make any rash decisions. When I am able to put a little space between me and the fear or doubt, I find that there is perspective to be gained that I couldn’t originally see.
What other limiting beliefs are here for me to observe?
Impatience comes with its own wagon full of baggage. Expectations are created. End of stories written. We may compare our journey to that of another, who appears to have it all together, who has had their moment of lift-off or at the very least seems to have it all figured out.
“What if I am exactly where I am supposed to be?” my mind wanders back to this thought.
Letting this thought settle in...
I allow it to ground deeper and open to the possibility that this can be my truth, even though I’m wanting to be further along the path.
I revisit the crossroad and see that in addition to the choices of left and right, the path continues straight as well. Realizing that there is no decision to make, I give myself permission to keep moving forward.