Most people that have ever tried something new have experienced The Wall. I’m sitting right up against that beyatch right now, so I'm writing about it. That’s a new thing for me to do in this space - share it.The tendency is to hide it, put lipstick on it (everything is going great/fake it til you make it), or if you're a donkey - lick it.
The Wall is tall, seemingly impenetrable, and real familiar. I don’t particularly like being at The Wall. It’s super uncomfortable – like a restless feeling that isn’t really satisfied with anything, though I’ve tried many things to try to satisfy it. Busywork, exercise, scrolling through my overfull inbox, checking for dust on the blinds of the window I’m staring out of, going to the refrigerator, thinking this could be a good time to list all that shit in the garage on Craigslist, or better yet, maybe I’ll just take a quick run down to the Goodwill and drop them off. Etc.
The thoughts and emotions at the wall are like nails on a chalkboard! Despair, overwhelm, anxiety, nobody wants what I’m creating, someone no-showed a phone call and that proves it. Maybe I should move, throw in the hat, why do I insist on working with humans when they’re the most unpredictable life form on this planet, why do I insist on taking a stand for freedom within, when I can’t even handle my own mental prison right now?
Procrastination, avoidance, distractions of all shapes and sizes, shame and fear show up at The Wall (it's a frickin' shadow party!). So I’m just admitting I’m here and that I’m avoiding doing something that scares me and would have me being seen in a bigger way.
And somehow, it doesn’t feel scary actually writing about this place. I believe we all experience The Wall, and it shows up in so many different ways, but with the same root cause at the bottom for everyone: Vulnerability and its guardian angel – Resistance.
What I’m describing above is pure resistance. And my mind can take that ball and RUN with it! It tries to convince me that I didn’t really care about the thing I was creating anyway, that it’s better to just relax, unwind a little, Lisa. Take a load off, you’ve been working so hard. Yeah, that’s right. Just go back to sleep now. Shhh.
But going back to sleep isn’t satisfying either. Because there’s that same restless feeling underneath all the distractions that lets me know it’s important, and it’s not going away. I’m at a choice point. I can either move forward with this vision I was given, or I can go back to sleep. Both are uncomfortable, but only one holds the unknown and possibility. And I’m committed to exploring the unknown, strapping curiosity on my back, and stepping out into the open.
Writing this (and actually posting it here) is a step. And I’m finding that by writing this, I don’t feel as much of that resistance and fear. Feels a little more spacious here at The Wall. Not good, mind you. But more alive, more me, more possibility and even a glimmer of excitement.
One little step is all it takes. What’s your step going to be? I’ll be out here waiting for you.