two days into only doing what i feel like and i’m remembering what detox is all about. it’s going a little faster than food or drug (i assume) detox… with cheese, the first two days are a breeze and its days three and four that the withdrawals start to kick in. i’m hoping that the presence of busy-ness withdrawals today means i’ll be back to homeostasis tomorrow (please?)
the first day/Wednesday was essentially a breeze. i noticed the immediate presence of some generalized anxiety, but it was manageable and because i didn’t “feel” like exploring it, so I didn’t… and I expected (once I realized I had been ingesting corn for a few days from an irresponsible cereal purchase and threw the cereal away) it to pass.
day two/Thursday i woke up feeling mostly the same, but with enough renewed vigor for life that i was willing to dig into the anxiety and what it was all about it.
about mid-day i got this: “Oh! So, that’s why I always do so much… I do it, because it cuts through the anxiety, it dulls it at worst… and anxiety is PAINFUL. duh.”
and then after a little pep-talk, I braved through that to find out what was underneath…
Why am I anxious in stillness? I love myself–I do. I enjoy my own company–really. That’s apparently not enough–nope. So, what’s it all about? What am I still afraid of that only comes up when I’m still enough to let it…?
|“perfect” comes in a lot of forms…|
and there it was: I’m not perfect (are you all tired of this yet? I’ve grown weary of it…). Okay, so yes… we’ve covered this. What about me not being perfect is scary?
It turns out that I (in stillness–because I honestly don’t think about it when I’m running on all cylinders) am afraid that if OTHER PEOPLE realize I’m not perfect that they’re going to take their love away. Yes, I’ve embraced my imperfection, and yes I know that anyone who chooses not to be in my life is doing us both a favor, but it still scares the crap out of me that someone will learn something about me that ends up being a dealbreaker for them.
When I’m running on all cylinders, busy and distracted from my fears, it doesn’t feel as scary to be vulnerable and open. Relaxed into the comfort zone of my busy-ness, I’ve been acting almost entirely on instinct for the last couple of months and it’s had great results. Suddenly, in the silence, with the chatter of the fears audible in the background I find myself either:
- anxious and unable to access my instinct which just perpetuates a feeling of being “lost” and not knowing which way to go
- so focused on the fear that the logical response seems to be to avoid vulnerability because if I’m vulnerable that’s where people will find out about my imperfections (as if they don’t already know…)
Sigh. I am exhausting.
Okay, body… we’ve found the root of the fear, and I’m choosing vulnerability… so you can calm down, it’s going to be okay. I’ve got it handled. Turns out, the best possible candidate for nailing this life is me and I’m totally on it. Thanks for your help.