Here Lies Fear’s Remains

The Anecdote for Struggle

Why do my insides want to hold so tightly to the last of these familiar habits, that so clearly stand in the way of my next level up, when the very thought of being stagnant out of fear makes me want to fight? 

I ask myself, does commitment as an act of resistance against resistance forge the path to surrender? Like, if I do the things I said I was going to do and push through the resistance and really commit then I win my game… right? Well, energetically speaking, resistance is resistance. So, let’s try this again…

If The Inner Game Plan is the road, my life is the vehicle. My Intention level is the energy that drives it and my “who” is the driver. When I am committed, I surrender to the experience of the journey, trusting that I will arrive at the appointed destination safely… especially if that default making weird noises in the back takes a nap. That default is trying to overtalk the GPS, blurting out billboard ads for landmarks no one wants to stop for along the way. That default’s chatter is trying to resist the flow. Yo, default! Take a nap. I am committed to surrender. 

Accepting Failure

I have lived long enough to fail. The harm from some of those missteps sometimes haunts and heckles my confident, highest self. Fear of failure is one of my defaults. For me, resistance looks like wrestling with that fear. Surrender looks like knowing that what I regarded as failures were brave attempts at growth before I knew this much. They were less “stop” and more “not yet” than I knew at the time. I owe so much to the things I learned from failed attempts at flawlessness. 

Me now is daring and bold. Me now is confident and knows that missteps happen so I have grace for myself and others. Me now has performed so many different versions of liberation and tried on so many transformations that I know what really fits. I am the embodiment of survival, resilience, and evolution. Me now has practiced for this moment and is prepared. 

I see you, resistance and struggle. Say another word and I’m going to have to put you out. I’ll place a mile marker where you stand so when I pass I’ll know it’s you. I choose to move forward without you. I am alive and you are not. Respectfully.