Search Results for fear

Lovingkindness, a way to let go of hesitation and fear

Lovingkindness, a way to let go of hesitation and fear

February 29, 2020
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Three days a week, there’s a prompt in The Creative’s Workshop. Something to ponder, to reflect and act upon, to respond to. Prompt number 8 called for action, and as much as it scared me, at first, once done, I’d shed a ton of anxiety and hesitation. 

This sentence hit’s the bullseye. Spot on. Hurtfully so:
It’s not that you can’t organize and ship a minimum lovable product. It’s simply that you’re hesitating.

You see, I want to do more with #tankespjärn than I have been doing so far, and yes I am afraid. I am hesitant. I fear failure.

Deep inhalation!
Letting it out.

Lovingkindness.
Breathe in love. Breathe out fear.
Breathe in strength. Breathe out hesitation.
Breathe in determination. Breathe out fear of failure.
Breathe in courage. Breathe out poor excuses.
Breathe in words from the Angel’s advocate. Breathe out words from the Devil’s advocate.
Breathe in just do it. Breathe out procrastination.

That’s what I wrote. To get myself ready to do the work the prompt actually called for, which was to make a list of steps that will take me (closer) to what it is I want to create, and then list what I need to do to make each step a reality. 

After spending 15-20 minutes on it, there I was, with a list of five steps with a number of actionable to-dos for each one. And all of a sudden, anxiety and hesitation are replaced with a sensation informing me that This is doable!

 

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My greatest fears

November 17, 2016
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Have joined up for the 30 days of being fearless-Facebook group started by Billie Allen. *And yes, it’s another numbered time-constrained challenge. You know I’m a sucker for these by now!*

One post in the Facebook-group read:

If you could overcome your greatest fears, how would your life be different? How would you be different?

Here’s my reply:

“Greatest fears”. It sounds so grand, so large. 

I believe my “greatest fears” are in reality fairly small… not daring to speak up, to make the most of the gifts I have to bring to the world, to stand up for someone in need for fear of being harassed myself, or ridiculed, etc.

FearsI am on a journey to walk thru my fears, not to “overcome” them as such, but to live life, and pass thru them, not having them be a hindrance, but rather, a possible bump in the road onwards, that gives the journey it’s texture. 

As I bump thru my fears, I become more me. Less restrictive, less mindful of what other people might or might not think about me, more in tune with my thoughts and emotions, daring to show my feelings, laugh out loud when I feel like laughing, sing to a great song when I hear it, regardless if I’m on a plane or alone at home. Less worried, less concerned with expecting stuff from myself and/or others, more exuberant, living life more fully, with up’s and down, more interested in people. Being less afraid, I’ve gotten to be a much better listener, no longer afraid of what might arise within myself from the stories I’m told. 

It’s an ongoing journey and I enjoy every twist and turn of the road, being less concerned about what I would have deemed right or wrong, good or bad, in the past.

Namaste!

If you could overcome your greatest fears, how would your life be different? How would you be different?

Since 2012 I have blogged over at herothecoach.com in a jumble of Swedish and English and this post is a sample of what I’ve been writing there over the years. As of 2016 I only write in Swedish there, and in English here. I hope you enjoy this #ThrowbackThursday, originally published here, and if you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts.
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Doing gentle – 25 – Fear brings an invite

July 3, 2016
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I used to run away from fear. Fear scared me. I thought it was something to avoid, at all costs, that which fear was warning me about. Then I got into a different relationship with fear. I learned to ask myself a verifying question to see if the fear was real, as it were, or just a figment of my imagination.

Should I send out an SOS?

(Dial 112, or 911, call the police, the fire department, an ambulance, however this is done where you live.)

Most often. (Almost always… or actually, always.) The answer would be no. The police wouldn’t come, there was no fire to put out, and none was in harm’s way. Most often, (almost always… or actually, always), it was imagined. Fear of speaking my mind. Of showing up. Of making myself visible.jump

Then it shifted again. My relationship with fear took on a third form. And this time, fear has a totally different energy to it. There’s bubbles in it. Excitement. An edge, telling me, here’s something you might want to try, my friend. An invitation, that’s what fear brings today, to me. An invitation, to step up, to level up, to become that which is within my grasp, that which I can choose to do, to be, to become. Speak my mind. Show up. Be visible.

No longer hide in the shadows of my imagined fear, but rather step into being all that I can be.

An invitation to dance. Dance in the light. Dance with the world. Dance with that which knocks at the door. Once it comes a-knocking, it’s up to me to accept the invite, or not. My choice.

Welcome to my humble abode, where the underlying tone centers around being gentle to oneself. On Sundays I share thoughts on how I do gentle, and I hope you enjoy it. If you do, please subscribe to updates so you won’t miss out on future posts in this series.

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Thanks for the learnings

October 20, 2020
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The bottom line:
No matter who I come across, whether a professional or a hack, there’s an opportunity to learn. Being conscious of this, and expressing gratitude for the possible learning, might help me stop judging the hacks I meet. 

I am enamored with professionals.
The way T asked me a gazillion questions during our Zoom-call the other week, question after relevant question, trying to tease out of me what it is I envision for tankespjärn. What a pro! She’s done this many times, that much is apparent, but sometimes that actually turns into a disadvantage, if it also means you go through the motions rather than actually still engage, fully, with the process.

Needless to say, T engaged fully, as the pro she is.
I was quite impressed by myself as well, able to reply to almost all of the questions, something I would only have been able to do half-assed six months ago, and basically not at all a year ago. The idea and vision I have for tankespjärn is getting clearer and clearer, that much is apparent, and a result of letting things take the time they need. The value of not rushing things is obvious to me, it’s something I truly believe in, and at the same time, it’s not always easy to live by.

However.
When I am met by someone who is supposedly a professional, a hack who doesn’t even go through the motion of pretending to do his/her work properly, cutting corners to the extent that the end result will be far from the agreed-upon, that I do not like. And even worse, I have very little patience with it. This is one of my remaining Achilles heels, where I can get very judgmental and with that, possibly a bit mean as well?!

I am not proud of that.

I do try to conduct myself in such a way that my professionalism is not compromised, biting my tongue to stop from blurting out any one of a number of thoughts running through my head…
Come on, do the work I’ve paid you to do!
Are you insane, how on earth…?
For crying out loud, snap to attention!

Instead, I clarify, when clarification is needed.
I explain, when understanding is lacking.
I point to reference documents, refer to praxis, ask for clarification, as appropriate.
Do my best, to help the process along, but inside… it’s hard not to get resentful. People who so clearly are done, spent, should not do what they do anymore. Or even don’t want to be and do what they are being and doing. As if serving the final years of a prison sentence, biding their time, before escaping, released from their responsibilities, their position, their work.

Possibly… what triggers me is my fear of becoming like that?
Or the discomfort I receive when picking up on the energy exuded?
Whatever it is, there’s both a physical and a mental rejection within me, informing me this is not a road I want to head down. Quite the opposite.

If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well.
This gives me a choice.
If I don’t find it worth doing, either I get to find something else to do, or I get to shift my approach, to find the worth of doing within me.

Easier said than done?
Sure.
But that’s life, isn’t it?
And I for one would not want a life of easy, honestly.
I want to butt up against the edges of my capacity, my capability, my comfort.

Perhaps that’s why, now and again, I come across a full-fledged professional, right after having met a hack? Both of them challenge me. Both of them have me up against the edges of my capacity, capability, comfort zone. In totally different ways, but still. I learn and grow from the experience.

What if, from now on, when I come across the pro, I say thanks for the learnings?
What if, from now on, when I come across the hack, I say thanks for the learnings?
Might that make it easier for me to refrain from the judgment? Worth a try!


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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Gifting me a morning ritual

October 13, 2020
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The bottom line:
Building a morning routine, where I feel thrown off my game when time does not allow for it to run its course in full, and realizing that this morning routine, or perhaps even ritual, is a gift. A Gift. To me.

Getting thrown off my new morning routine where I wake up, of my own volition, at six am. Get up, pee, go downstairs to fetch phone and iPad, standing in the kitchen doing a slow morning Seven of pelvic movements, waiting for the kettle to boil while checking my email and doing a quick scan of SoMe (now that the ayurvedic challenge is over, no more morning videos to peruse). Armed with electronic (writing) devices, a cup of warm water, I head upstairs, doing my Wim Hof breathing regime (normally in bed, today I lay down on the floor, pulling the duvet off the bed, to keep me warm), before climbing back into bed, to do my morning writing while drinking the warmed up water.

Once I’ve posted my writings, somewhere or other, I head for the basement bathroom, do my regular morning Seven (lately, a lot of Lindy hop-practices, which is akin to cardio, let me tell you) before jumping into a two minute-cold shower, before getting dressed, ready to meet the world.

By this time, it’s nine o’clock, give or take, and I realize how anything scheduled by me before nine throws me off my game. Off my writing game, to be precise, because the other things I do, regardless. Not necessarily in the order described above, but more or less.

Yesterday I’d scheduled a CoachTalk at 7:15 am, and then the day simply rolled on… never granting me (me never granting me, that is!) the time and space to sit down and do my (deep dive) writing. And somehow the entire day feels slightly off.

Yesterday, I had a Zoom-call scheduled at nine am, in conjunction with the Bonnie Bliss Yoni Club-training I’m taking online right now, and I got into sharing something I will be writing about in my deep dive, so in a sense, I got ”it” out of my system, but… it’s still not the same.

There’s something to the writing that provides both an edge (the permanence of it? The shareability of it? The way my words take on a life of their own? The dance with fear at being rejected, shamed and shunned for writing what I am writing?) and an expanded opportunity for learning. When I write, I explore. It truly is a deep dive, regardless if I am deep diving into a topic (shame) as I am at the moment, of if it’s ”just” writing because I want to, because I blog daily (No. Not at the moment. Unless the sharing in a small online-community can be called blogging, which, in a sense, it actually can.), because it’s a habit I’ve gotten accustomed to.

The way I write, I learn.
About me. About you. About the world.
There is discovery and surprise, there is exploration and aha-moments, there are connections made visible that have previously eluded me, there are new questions arising.

Waking up today, I realized… I need to stop giving away my mornings to others. I want to give them to me. I want to honor the precious opportunity they are to me, and be much more deliberate in when I schedule something else during this time. Sometimes, it’s a necessity. I have clients requiring my presence at certain times. I have commitments to others giving me an opportunity to prioritize, making me truly look at how I spend –and value!– my time. But if I am to give my mornings away, it’s going to be for very good reasons.

Because I haven’t, ever honestly, been so aware of the need to value my time, as I was today, waking, and realizing how my entire system longed for my morning routine, the very same one I did not gift myself with yesterday.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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Invitation

August 31, 2020
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The monthly Zoom in the tankespjärn-community took place this morning (for me. There were participants who were up in the middle of the night to partake. That wowed me!), and counter to past monthly Zoom-calls, this one was topic-less. That is, I hadn’t thought of anything to initiate the conversation… and for the shortest time, there was nothing but silence, as I threw out the invitation to talk about… what?

And the response was just that: INVITATION

So we took the invitation to speak, reflect, ponder, think and sense into the concept of INVITATION, and as always… it makes me astonished both how fast an hour can go (proof of flow-state) and also how much can be experienced in (but) an hour.

A few of the questions popping into my head, as I reflect on all we managed to fit into the one hour:

– When to extend an invitation? (The fear of imposing on others, often makes me send them too late… or not at all.)

– Do I do it enough?
(Heck no, is my answer to that question, that’s for sure!)

– Can I write a general invitation that actually makes individuals feel seen and heard, rather than go ”Oh, this is probably not for me”?
(See. I just w i l l   n o t stop with the shotgun approach, even though I know –Know!– the sniper approach works so much better. Sigh.)

– If extending an invitation is an act of g e n e r o s i t y, what is not extending an invitation then?
(This caused a shift in me when I first realized it, thanks to one of the prompts in The Creative’s Workshop. Not enough of a shift to make me be as generous with invitations as I would like to be – because I see myself as a generous person, and I want to show up as one.)

– Once I get someone to take my hand, accepting the invitation, how do I nourish the relationship, making them want to stay in my community? (Do general postings on the i n s i d e of a community suffice? Or do I need to make people in the community feel, on an individual basis, seen and heard on a continuous basis? I guess the latter… Agree?)

And there was more. Much more. Like these, resonating with me:
– Being (personally) invited feels very generous. It makes me feel chosen. (Seeding generosity. Indeed!)
– By invitation only. (How will the tankespjärn-community evolve if –when?– people I do not know, start to show up? Interesting question to ponder!)

Not to mention, this great piece of tankespjärn:
The more something is n o t for everyone, the more it is for the people it is for.

I know this to be true, as I know, that I, tankespjärn nor the community is for everyone.
This session has also informed me that it’s up to me to extend an invitation to those I know it’s for.

And, as promised: Yes. I extended three personal invitations last night, right before heading off to bed, only to wake up to a new patron! Given this result, insights gained from the Zoom on INVITATION, and more time on my hand, I vow to send out personal invites using the drip by drip-strategy. A drip here, a drip there, over time turns into a heckofa large puddle! (Don’t you just love puddles?)


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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Missed opportunities. Or not?

August 30, 2020
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Here I go a g a i n!
Or rather… here I don’t go again.

I have the tankespjärn community monthly Zoom-call coming up tomorrow morning (my time, Central European Summer (!) Time/CEST. What that means for you TimeandDate can help figure out!), and I’ve been meaning to reach out, individually, to people whom I would love to join the community, thinking I wanna tell them Right before a monthly Zoom is a great time to jump in and try it out!

I still think that’s a great idea.
I just haven’t. Reached out, I mean.

And of course, rather than spending an hour reaching out to people, in person, with an open and heartfelt invitation… I do the s a m e thing that I’ve concluded, ages ago, is n o t the way to go. The shotgun approach is sooooo much easier though…. Ah, there comes my old friend, Resistance.

But it’s funny.
Because, when I do use the sniper approach, and reach out in person, regardless if I get a Yes or a No to my invitation, I always feel good.
Always. (Truly!)

So. What the heck is this really about?
What am I resisting? Why am I running into these missed opportunities, over and over again? Perhaps (likely?) I fear someone will not respond graciously, but rather lash out at me?

And, however irrational I know this fear to be, it might still be what keeps on getting in the way. Because that’s the thing about feelings. Rational, they most often are not.

I can look at this month’s Zoom as a missed opportunity. Or… I do have an hour or so before heading off to bed. So besides posting this (which, albeit not a personal invite, I hope still reads as an invite! I would love to have you check out the community!), I will reach out a hand to a few people I know and cherish. Ask. Invite. Extended without expectations (other than an actual response. I do love my clear Yes/No-responses, and might well push a bit to get one!).

Reporting back tomorrow, ok?
(That way I have accountability, in place as well. Clever, huh?!)

(And here I sit, ready to hit publish, when it hits me… what if I use this as accountability for the September Zoom as well? I mean, to get in touch and give personal invitations, with a bit more leeway? Even more clever!)


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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Right/Wrong

August 8, 2020
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Right and Wrong. That was the starting point for the monthly Zoom in July, in the tankespjärn community on Patreon. An hour of gentle, exploring, curious conversation and connection, along the lines of the attached doodle.

What became apparent quite quickly was that we all had a strong sense of either ourselves or a parent, being the one who was always right. Makes me wonder about you, reading this, if you, a parent, or perhaps a grandparent or someone else, held this role in your life growing up? The one always in the right?

From the doodle, I am thrown back to that Friday morning (CET time), the way our conversation meandered about, the way they do, those generous, rich, nourishing conversations. Across the distinction between Judgment (preconceived notions) vs Discernment (being open to what is), and how that latter opens up not just within, but also without, making room for all (people, ideas, decisions). To the impactful question: Am I worthy to get what I want? Which made way for insights of not nurturing oneself as one could (can!), and how, when the notion of having to be right (while fearing being wrong) leaves room for uncertainty, how freeing that can be.

Right and Wrong.
Where does it take you?


These Zoom-conversations are a monthly feature of the tankespjärn-community–and I know I speak for every member when I say, that you are enthusiastically invited to join in!

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Being wrong: Adventures in the margin of error (book 7 of 12)

August 7, 2020
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in Tip
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”To err is to wander, and wandering is the way we discover the world; and, lost in thought, it is also the way we discover ourselves. Being right might be gratifying, but in the end it is static, a mere statement. Being wrong is hard and humbling, and sometimes even dangerous, but in the end it is a journey, and a story. Who really wants to stay home and be right when you can don your armor, spring up on your steed and go forth to explore the world? True, you might get lost along the way, get stranded in a swamp, have a scare at the edge of a cliff; thieves might steal your gold, brigands might imprison you in a cave, sorcerers might turn you into a toad–but what of that? To fuck up is to find adventure: it is in that spirit that this book is written.”

Being wrong: Adventures in the margin of error by Kathryn Schulz, is a book I was gifted, by someone I think knew just how much I would appreciate it. And I must say, I did. I do. Because this is definitely a book to read again, now and again.

”…our beliefs are inextricable from our identities. That’s one reason why being wrong can so easily wound our sense of self.”

Having lived at least 35+ years of my life with a very hard-formed belief that my worth, my value, lay in me being correct, I guess you can fathom how I feared being wrong.

Oh.
How. I. Feared.
Being. Wrong.

And it’s still not easy.
To ’fess up to. To acknowledge. To own.
But I’ve gotten much better at it.
Practice makes perfect… as the saying goes.
(Can one be perfect in getting things wrong?)

”The very word ’believe’ comes from an Old English verb meaning ’to hold dear’, which suggests, correctly, that have a habit of falling in love with our beliefs once we’ve formed them.”

I was not just enamored in my beliefs, I was enamored in being right, correct, spot-on, in anything. I’d much rather not answer a Trivial Pursuit question where I dithered than answer it and be proven wrong.

”This is the thing about fully experiencing wrongness. It strips us of all our theories, including our theories about ourselves. This isn’t fun while it’s happening–it leaves us feeling flayed, laid bare to the bone and the world–but it does make possible that rarest of occurrences: real change.”

Perhaps that is precisely what I did, way back then when I was about to become a mother, and my world fell apart around me? Experienced my wrongness completely, having all my theories about myself, my marriage, my life, taking a proper tumble, leaving me laid bare to the bone… open to the question which got me started on the path to real change: Do I like who I am?


The book I am blogging about is part of the book-reading challenge I’ve set for myself during 2020, to read and blog monthly about 12 Swedish and 12 English books, books that I already own.

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The way to live my life

July 8, 2020
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The intensity!
People are responding, daily-ing, responding to prompts, sharing shipping news and aha’s like never before.

TCW is going out with a bang!
A most fitting description of these final hours (?!) of The Creative’s Workshop. But alas, how will it work, the actual shut-down? ”The final day is on the 9th of July” but what does that mean? Will it be shut-down at the start of the 9th, or the end of it? And according to what time zone?

Luckily… soon we are to find out, all of us, participating in TCW until the very end (at least our perceived end).

I’ve downloaded the CSV-file with all of my entries, have the archive-link handy, and yet… there’s so much goodness written by someone else… I just will not, ever, have the time to go through it all, even if I could save the entirety of this very first cohort of TCW.

So I shake it off, the sense of regret, of loss, accept that the FOMO is not a fear, but a fact, and as such, I could spend my time and energy fighting it. To no avail. That’s the problem with facts like these. It’s not a problem to be solved but rather a fact to accept. So I do.

I accept that there are dailies-threads I will never, ever, get to dive deep into.
That there are responses to prompts that hold potential gems and insights that would be of such service to me, responses of beauty and wit, of honesty and humor, of confusion and clarity.
Not to mention all the responses to all of these posts. Responses filled with as much beauty and wit, honesty and humor, confusion and clarity.
Astute writings I won’t ever get to see.

Ah.
Bitter-sweet.
And so so welcome.
I cannot fathom living in a world where I would feel finished.
Imagine partaking in a workshop like this, with 400+ participants (not all active, but many), and after 150 days feel that I’ve gotten everything possible from it, that there’s nothing left to learn…

I wouldn’t want that.
Not for TCW, not for anything.
Especially not for life.

So I am letting TCW go, in order to let come other things, with grace. With loving acceptance, knowing deep within that this is the way I want to live my life.


#tankespjärn, for those who wish to discover. More. Other. New.
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