Fear has been my enemy since I was a little girl. I have many vivid memories of lying in bed at night hiding my head under the covers terrified an angel was going to show up and try to talk to me. I was irrationally afraid that our house would catch fire and we wouldn't all make it out alive. I would run up the stairs as fast I could, completely convinced that a monster was breathing down my neck and would take me down. As I got older, the fears became steeped in possibilities that were less fantasy and grounded in more realistic humanity. I was scared I'd get into a car accident, or that one of my loved ones would suddenly die. The swirling anxiety was my continual companion; hovering on my shoulder and whispering paralyzing nonsense into my ear.
So many chapters of my life have been written in a narrative I would have deleted and left on the cutting room floor.. yet some of the ugliest portions of the script have been the ones that have burned away the irrationality that suffocated me for decades. At this moment, I've found myself afraid of very little. Discovering my strength has been an intoxicating process, and I've revealed in seeing just how much I can do.
But fear is a tenacious enemy. One that works hard to linger.. cloaking itself in the disguise of lies long believed, ones that are so familiar they seem to be truth. I have hundreds of inspirational sayings, quotes, scriptures floating inside of my brain- ones that call to action, command me to reach towards my best self while leaving fear behind without the nourishment of my oxygen, my attention, my belief. Yet I find myself indulging it. Returning to the destructive momentary comfort of entertaining the lie/fear monster I've been married to.
The current wrestling is over my future. My destiny. My best life, my hopes and dreams... taking punches from the thing that is ever ready to remind me that I couldn't possibly get to where my soul knows I belong. That I don't have what it takes, that I'll try and fail. That the dreams that have swam miles inside of my brain, carving serpentine grooves into the grey matter are the unrealistic visions of a delusional dreamer.
I've worked to address the roadblock that has detoured my progress for so long and discovered the most amazing irony. This insidious poison of fear is actually afraid of.. me. My power. The ability I have to not only dream, but to chase my vision down and capture the very thing my heart and brain know to be who I am.
Marianne Williamson's powerful statement has been playing on a loop for me recently- forcing me to come to the realization that the very thing I've been afraid of is the power that was given to me.
Uncle Ben from Spiderman sums it up in one sobering sentence: With great power comes great responsibility. That responsibility is what frightens me. Can I handle it? Will I be able to write, speak up, stand up for those who have no voice in such a way that is dignified, impactful, and sustainable? I'm weary from the struggle. I think that's one of the goals of fear- to wear you out and prevent you from doing exactly what the world needs you to do. So I've decided that if I'm going to be tired of the struggle, weary from the effort, I'd much rather be tired and content- settling into my bed each night knowing I'm stewarding the power assigned to me with great honor. The revelation has been convicting, however as a great man named Jesus once said.. you will know the truth and the truth will set you free.
We all have power simmering inside, waiting to be given permission to explode into the scenes prepared for us. I can no longer sleep with the enemy, the restlessness has grown too loud to ignore, and I'm ready to chose to live wide awake.
Full quote below: (note: This quote has been attributed to Nelson Mandela for a long time, and as much as I adore him and had believed it came from one of his speeches, research has shown that it originated with Marianne Williamson, and I wanted to give credit where it's due).
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