12: Passion Over Fear

The Art of Doing It Afraid

A little while ago, I finished writing the manuscript of my first very own book. With that, a process of one and a half years came to an end, and simultaneously, a new one began: gathering the courage to show it to people.

While in the midst of the writing process, the thought of publishing felt so surreal, so far away, still. Only I really knew about this growing file sitting in my laptop, it was nothing to stress about. But my dream isn’t to just keep these written feelings and thoughts locked away, I want them out there, alive, shaping my reality; so I had to jump.

Whenever we’re standing on the edge of something we genuinely care about, our nervous system likes to raise its alarm bells. Whether it’s taking steps towards our dream career, a hobby we’d like to try, an unfamiliar travel destination or a new connection to explore; our mind hits us with a DANGER, DO NOT ENTER.

But why the hell does following our heart feel so terrifying?

When we cultivate something meaningful, it holds value – and having something valuable in our life means there is the potential to lose it. This is a real, understandable fear, because loss equals hurt. Something not working out the way we pictured might lead to pain, which of course is a reality we’d rather not experience. But the truth is, in all softness: pain is inevitable. And by depriving ourselves of any real chance in first instance, we’re personally guaranteeing for our own heartbreak.

But equally true, and even more significant: we carry the ability to process pain, to integrate it in the form of wisdom. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be such an organic part of life; I’m convinced of that.

So how do we get a grip on our mind’s fear protocol? Is there a way to interfere with this automatism?

Yes, there can be. And it’s fully up to us.

Making space for this type of internal work takes a lot of dedication, as the only way to turn fear into trust is to go through it. Breathing through the emotion, not fighting it. Listening to the story our body is telling us and forgetting about the version in our mind; we know that up there between irrational fear and self-sabotage, we’re hardly ever winning.

Remembering that the best things in life are worth trying for and trusting that we’ll be able to handle it if something doesn’t work out the way we hoped it would. We never really lose if we gave it our all, we were there. Present. And this is winning, too.

The art of doing it afraid is rooted in facing these exact situations that cause everything to tighten within us and calmly reminding our fully alert nervous system that we’re actually not in danger. This is not a one-and-done, this takes time, patience, and repetition. And sometimes, it takes meeting somebody worth trying for.

We can deliberately hold out against the instinct telling us to withdraw when something internally tells us that we’d actually rather stay. We can give it a try if we really feel like we want to, and we can also choose not to. Facing our fear doesn’t mean we have to go against ourselves at all costs; it means learning to get out of our own way. By prioritising passion over concern, calling over doubt. Love over risk.

What is there to lose, really, if we take the leap and see how it goes? And what is there to gain if we don’t?

Fear kills love. But we decide whether we let it take control.

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Carry-On:

Fear can behave like an overprotective friend accidentally blocking your way because they’re terrified something bad might happen to us. The intentions are good, but following their advice isn’t exactly leading to our happiness.

This week, write a message to your fear – either in thoughts or on paper – and treat it as a calm conversation with that type of friend.

How would you assure them that you’ve got this?

Let your fear know why it’s worth doing it afraid, as if you were to tell your friend about your passion behind it.

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