The best day
of your life
is the one on
which you decide
your life is
your own.

~ Bob Moawad ~

Fear is excitement without breath.

~ Robert Heller ~

I’ve been wondering for a while now – what if a lot of what I label as fear is actually excitement? Excitement with an edge, maybe, but excitement, nonetheless. And if the “fear” is actually excitement, couldn’t it be used as fuel to propel me forward?

That thought has been floating around my noggin for an embarrassingly long time, actually. I’ve been playing with it, and doing what I ask my clients to do. Getting curious, just observing, letting it hang out with me and watching where it goes.

It went to Google, finally, typed in “fear and excitement quote” (I know, you picture me pulling these quotes out of thin air or leather bound books. Sometimes I do, and sometimes Google does it for me), and up popped just the answer I was looking for.

It’s true, isn’t it? When we are afraid, we tend to hold our breath. And when we hold our breath, energy gets stuck and whatever emotion we are feeling isn’t really going anywhere, is it? Or at least that’s how it feels. When I operate from fear, time slows down to a point where molasses would seem to pour at warp speed. And when I move from excitement? Things happen so quickly that I am hoping there’s a brake pedal somewhere, just in case. Minutes expand into hours, days open up into weeks and it is all ridiculously fun, no matter how difficult the actual task might be.

So that’s the other “f word”. Fun. Not, perhaps, what you were expecting.

I’ve been having fun playing with fear, watching it swirl around me, trying to upset my stomach and scrunch up my brow. Just like fishing – I let it take the line, and then I reel it back in, with breath and attention and a whole lot of compassion. And when I add all that? Things get exciting. They move forward at incredible speed, doors fly open, and I just watch, in complete awe, taking it all in.

I suspect I’ll be having fun with fear for quite some time – want to join me? Just notice when you tighten up, when you resist what is. Take a deep breath or two (or thirty), move your body and see if you can find a thread of what might be excitement. Go to that edge. Stay there. See what happens… let me know!

Dreams are illustrations… from the book your soul is writing about you.

~ Marsha Norman ~

Almost four years ago, when I saw our house for the very first time, I knew we would buy it. And when I saw the windows over the garage, I knew that, one day, I would have a studio there. I did.

The fact that there were no stairs to the someday studio didn’t bother me at the time. I just knew it would happen. Then our attention (and funds) were diverted into other areas. And others. And life went on like that, for a while. And my dream of a space to create in seemed to slip away. Other things had priority, the days went by, one after another. I believed, for a while, that I was wrong – that space that once seemed magical now was destined to house window screens and nothing more.

One day early last spring, I happened to stand in the same spot I stood in on my first visit. I gazed up and saw the windows, all over again. I saw myself with messy hair and brushes in both hands. And I knew it was time. The stairs, you may recall, were built last summer. Once they were in place, I did try to work in the raw space – now that it was, at least, accessible. It was pretty clear to me that it wasn’t going to work when I took the first three paintings out into the sunlight and realized that they were completely different than I had thought. I’m sure that, someday, they will stand in a museum gallery all by themselves, labeled “Christa Gallopoulos – The Dark Period”! Honestly, the lack of light, presence of floating insulation and inability to stop wiping the sweat from my brow just didn’t inspire much creativity.

So here we go – thanks to the support of my very patient husband and the encouragement of many, construction started a few days ago. With any luck, I’ll be up there every minute I can find in between the Spring Tour trips. I can’t wait.

Here’s what I want you to know. Several years ago, I thought I had no creative abilities and literally slashed my own paintings. I never picked up my camera except for school basketball games. And anything I wrote got stuck away in a drawer or shredded. Truly.

The growth and healing in exploring all kinds of creative expression I have experienced personally is just huge – and now I get to watch others find the same gifts. I am so grateful for all of it. And so glad I followed my dreams. What I once found laughable, I now see as a path, lit up and welcoming me, showing me the way home to myself.

I hope you can see yours, too. Follow it. It will lead you right back to who you really are. The world needs your gifts, and so do you.

Is it that they fear the pain of death, or could it be they fear the joy of life?

I wrote this summer about fear, and truth be told, I’ve been living in the midst of it ever since.  In fact, a quick search for “fear” on my site brings up a good dozen or more posts in the last six months.  I am beginning to think that it’s here to stay.

And that’s okay.

I was talking to my best friend in Chicago yesterday, filling her in on all the ways my life is moving forward at a breathtaking rate, and she told me that I was amazing.  I breezed right by that (old habits die hard) and then stopped and circled back, asking her why she said those particular words.  Thank God for old, dear friends.  She laughed that laugh that I love, and thought for a minute before responding, “Well, you are fearless…”.  This from the woman who literally walked me through the days of unearthing the violence in my early days, the taking off of my mask, the days of hiding under the covers and crying river upon river.  Who saw me, more than once, literally paralyzed.

And then it was my turn to laugh.

Because here’s the thing.  I am scared (expletive deleted here).  Beyond words scared.  All the time.

And that’s okay, too.

I’ve come to see something really clearly.  Fear, being scared, anxiety – all of that and more – are just ways that our inner lizards, our primal selves, try to keep us safe.  This mighty yet small inner voice is the one that has descended from generations of those who survived a lot – the ones who were nervous, who watched around them constantly, who were ON ALERT!!!, in a very big way.  Tara Brach tells a wonderful story about this – the bottom line is that our prehistoric ancestors who hung out on a rock, hands in mudra and meditating didn’t make it.  They got eaten.  And so we have carried all that fear forward.  So to speak.

Here’s the metaphor for the day.  I watched a candle burn for a while yesterday, focusing on the light.  And I blew it out quickly, releasing a rather surprising amount of smoke.  As the smoke rose, I blew into it, and it disappeared.  And reappeared.  I blew it away, and once more, it returned.  It came and it went. Just like fear.

As best I can tell,  the only way out of fear is through it, over and over.  Identifying the fear, questioning it – is it fear of failure or fear of moving forward is a favorite -, allowing it to move away.  And not being so surprised when it returns.  Over and over again.

And that’s okay.  It is.

It’s Tuesday, and I am joining Heather and a great group of writers in Just Write.  Take a look!

My work is to accept myself as I am, in this moment.

Not some thinner, more organized, streamlined future self

who may or may not magically appear one morning.

It’s to know that right here, right now,

I am allowed to love and be loved, just as I am. 

~clg

It’s time we all saw that, isn’t it?