Facing My Fear

Wow. I can’t believe I am actually doing this. My intention for this blog is healing. Or perhaps, piecing back together some disowned parts of myself so that I can become whole and complete and no longer live in a flustered state of illusion that one might refer to as fear or anxiety. Fancy huh? Learning, trying, striving – these are all qualities and actions I know far too well. What about living, being, creating, enjoying? What happened to those parts? We all have them you know. Somewhere along the way others deemed them less important and the little girl inside of me listened, and did what she was told.

I have a 1 year old daughter, which is the pivotal point in my life that brought all of this stuff way too close to the surface for me to ignore. What a paradigm shift! Nothing is ever going to be the same. Overnight I dropped a lot of ego identities and now I have one called “mom”; an identity that I have no clue how to handle or how to wrap my mind around (see there it is! analyzing). This is also an identity that I can never change. So, instead of reading some self-help book on how “so-and-so” survived motherhood, I’m going to take the bull by the horns and face my fears through doing something I have never done before (unless I was told exactly how, what, and why, of course) and that is: writing.

Seeing my daughters joy and innocence reminds me constantly that I have lost those aforementioned parts of myself, and this feels so uncomfortable. It actually makes my heart hurt. When I am fully present and playing with her, that little girl inside of me, she comes back. I see glimpses of her. “Come play with meeeeeeeeeee!” she says. And then when all is quiet, fear or ego or whatever you want to call it, it creeps back in. Fear of failure. Fear of failing her. Fear of passing down any of the false limiting beliefs that I am carrying around in my skin and in my soul. “I don’t want you!” I yell at my self when the fears arise. And dammit, they are still there. Prior to having my daughter these fears were drowned out and smothered by jobs, school, and a busy social calendar. I have already looked at my past with a magnifying glass throughout my life and even deeper while studying psychology in graduate school. I know where my wounds are and I have forgiven those that need to be forgiven, knowing that all of those that came before me were doing the absolute best they could with the understanding, knowledge, and awareness that they had. I have practiced yoga and meditation for many years. These practices have helped me tremendously. Helped me move through life a little lighter and better able to handle many stressors. However, I still I find myself trying so hard to figure shit out. Perhaps our culture has taught me that obtaining knowledge is more important than love? Perhaps some of the information I have learned needs to be forgotten and space made for some different ideas?

I have been struggling in my thoughts on what to write about and how to blog. I have been putting off getting started because typically I figure everything out and do a ton of research before actually starting something new. Why is that? Fear of failing of course. Not this time. There’s really no way I can possibly fail by writing my truth. Even though I can’t see it now, in the midst of fear and doubt, I know deep down that I am still here for a reason. I know that my daughter came to me to teach me something; to dig up these parts of me and bring them to the light. I am determined to heal and to live my life NOW. Healing myself so that I can dedicate my life to healing the world.

If anyone is reading this, I apologize for any typos and grammatical errors.

Lots of love and glimmers of hope and light ~ Heidi


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