Fear of trying, is an entirely new experience for me.
I’m the woman who quit my job in New York, packed up my eight-year-old daughter, arranged for our three very large dogs to be put on a plane with us, convinced my mother that she should come along shortly thereafter so that our little family unit remained in tact, and off we all went on our great French adventure.
What could go wrong?
I was living my “no regrets, what do I/we have to lose(?), if things don’t work out something else will(!)” positive attitude life. You know, that notion that one would rather have regrets than remorse even though some claim that’s a semantics game. Still, how about a cliche instead: Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Wouldn’t it have been terrible to look back and think: Why didn’t I? At the time, that was my greatest fear.
And, nothing did go wrong. On the contrary, everything went better than I could have ever hoped or imagined.
That was then. This is now.
Lately I’ve been trying to figure out what’s wrong with me, what’s happened, why and how I have seemed to have changed so radically? Why do I seem to be hesitant about new challenges and unexpected opportunities?
For the last year or so the mere idea of trying to learn something new — a complicated tech trick for example — seems overwhelming, impossible, scary. For the smallest bumps in the road I am suddenly wrought with doubts, whereas before I looked forward with enthusiasm to the possibilities on the other side of the unknown.
Now, to move forward I have to make Herculean efforts to take myself out of a “just stay right where you are safe space.” One of my useful mechanisms for getting myself out of this stagnant situation is to make a promise to someone that I will do something. I don’t ever want to back out of a promise. It’s easy to postpone/break a promise to myself, but just about impossible to do so with a friend.
Maybe it’s an age thing. Maybe I need a vacation. Maybe I should take that video challenge that was offered to me last week. What do I have to lose? The answer is: I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. The question remains however: Will I set aside my fear of trying?
And here’s the thing, every-single-time I force myself to do something that I dreaded, like having a small dinner party for example, I am inordinately happy in and after the the evening. It was the anxiety before that set the doubts in motion. Why? Simple. Because I stopped entertaining and I forgot how much I loved it; how the more we do something the better we get at doing it; and finally the payoff, those wonderful, memorable moments with people we care about. Who cares if I overcook the haricots verts?
In rereading this post I fully realize it seems trivial, but I was just wondering: Do you ever feel like this? And, if you do, what is your remedy?