Do the damn thing anyway

What to do when you’re scared and trying to do the thing anyway

 I was writing intentions for my 39th year, and things felt particularly real. My birthday happens to fall on January 1st, so it’s a ripe time for contemplation, reflection, and intention. Even though I wasn’t turning 40, I could feel the presence of the big 4-0 breathing down my almost 39-year-old neck. This thing I’ve desperately wanted, which I still haven’t achieved, is taunting me more than ever! 

 I write constantly. But the vast majority of which, I’ve kept to myself in my safe little space.

 “It’s just journaling if nobody gets to read it,” Justin said to me once.

 For a little while, I contemplated if that was enough– writing without anyone reading. I love the process of writing so damn much; maybe it was enough to do it only for me, I tried to convince myself.

But I also knew that was total bullshit. Because I want to give. I want to interact. I want to see what happens when I release something out into the world and lose control of it. Isn’t that, perhaps, also a magical process?

 But more than that, I want to be in connection. And perhaps, give something to the world.

 I was at a Florence and the Machine concert quite some time ago, and Florence said something like, “I wrote this in my journal, and then I sang it out loud, and you all sang it back to me.”

 She seemed shocked that she’d found the courage to sing her truth to stadiums of people. But also that people connected to her so deeply, that they sang her words back to her. She could see herself reflected, our experiences and pain are always slightly distorted mirror images.

The day after the concert, I wrote her words on a sticky note and taped them on my fridge next to a Mary Oliver quote that read; “The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”

 That was at least five years ago. I wasn’t ready yet. But I am now.

 So anyway, I was sitting on the precipice of 39, thinking about how it was my time.

It’s now or never, lady.

You’re not old, but you’re also not young.

Let’s get it going on, ya almost old lady.

(This is me pumping me up.)

Then I scribbled the year’s intentions into my journal. Things like:

 This is the year you step into the arena!

 And:

 Why not me?

“The most regretful people on earth are those who felt the call to creative work, who felt their own creative power restive and uprising, and gave to it neither power nor time.”

— Mary Oliver

And then, alongside all this contemplation, in the final days of 2022, right before my birthday, I got a call to do an interview with CBS discussing MDMA-assisted psychotherapy for PTSD. Now, if they had asked me to do this as the person sitting in the expert seat, I would have been nervous, sure, but I wouldn’t have hesitated.

But they were asking to interview me as someone who was a participant in the trial. Now, here I am, so comfy in my expert role but not at all comfy in my role as an abuse survivor and someone who subsequently struggled with PTSD. I was fucking scared. I was also five weeks postpartum and still very much in goblin mode.

 As I was going back and forth, trying to figure out what was my true self and what was my fear, Justin gave me a gentle, loving nudge.

“This is exactly in line with what you’re trying to build,” he said.

 He was right. I want to connect with the world as a whole human, from a place of both personal and professional knowledge. I want to walk the walk of destigmatizing mental health issues and sexual trauma. I am nowhere near perfect, but I want to show that healing is possible. That post-traumatic joy is possible. This aligns with my values. And I knew what I needed to do.

Here are a few quick tips for doing the damn thing anyway, even when you’re scared:

Breathe into the fear & move toward acceptance

Just like you would in a challenging yoga position or childbirth. If you resist the pain or the discomfort, it gets worse. This is true for emotional pain and anxiety, too. Let it come and go. Take some deep breaths. Don’t try to control. Acknowledge it. Tell yourself it’s okay to be nervous! Then, keep going. Let the fear come and go, notice it, and then refocus your attention on what you’re trying to accomplish. Welcome fear as one passenger in the car…but you are the driver! It is in the backseat.

Hold space for yourself

Be compassionate toward yourself. Hold space for what you need. Hold yourself gently while holding yourself accountable. Picture cupping a butterfly in the palm of your hand. Now, think about holding yourself that way.  

Examine your limiting beliefs

What beliefs are keeping you stuck? Tap into what your brain is saying that no longer serves you. If you’re having difficulty figuring out what that is, start by noticing anxiety in your body. Maybe it’s a twist in your stomach, or your heart begins to race. Then ask yourself, what was I thinking just then? Now, write down all the thoughts that come to your head. You’ll likely notice some unhelpful thoughts alongside the physical feeling of anxiety.

 Another idea is to sit down with a pen and paper. Then think about the thing you’re nervous to do and write down all the worst-case scenarios. This will help you see what beliefs may be getting in the way.

Here are some examples of my limiting beliefs, things that have kept me stuck:

-I have to be quiet in order to survive

-Living a creative life is irresponsible

-Writing is not real work, it’s a cute, silly little hobby

-Speaking up is dangerous and embarrassing

-If I tell my story, people will think I’m incompetent, and I will be humiliated

Once I’ve externalized these beliefs on paper, It’s clear I don’t really believe them, not anymore (yay!), I can say, “Thank you, brain and body, for protecting me! I’m okay now.”

 I learned this saying from Jack Kornfield, and it’s helped me tremendously. Thank you, body and brain, for protecting me. I’m okay now.

Then, commit to doing the damn thing alongside your fear. We got this!

Here are some other resources and people who have helped me find courage:

The War of Art, Steven Pressfield: https://stevenpressfield.com

The Practice, Seth Godin: https://seths.blog

Jack Kornfield: https://jackkornfield.com

Tim Ferris: https://tim.blog

Marie Forleo: https://www.marieforleo.com