This is a scary thought, not knowing what you’re doing in life, not understanding your own direction.  Not knowing why you’re driving down a particular road. Fear.

 If I really break it down I am writing 13 Adventures to address and confront my fears. Not just the kind of fear that comes from doing something new and exciting, and that’s a lot of 13 Adventures, but the fear that tends to creep into our everyday lives – grabbing the steering wheel and dictating a life predictable.  I have said here before that I am avoiding, or at least diagnosing my routines and how they are created – and that’s true, but the real root of it all, the gut stuff that needs cleaning out, is my awareness of late that I have a lot of fear in my life.

 This is huge.  This is cataclysmic on a personal, professional and psychological level. I am afraid.

 Aren’t we all?  Whether we’re conscious of it or not, most of us are in a constant state of appraisal of ourselves, of our family, of our surroundings. We are checking and re-checking that we fit the stereotypical place we find ourselves in.  This summer while adventuring across the United States without a home to anchor me, I found myself reflective of where my life was/is.  But here I am, just over a month into living in our new home (albeit temporary post for the year) and already I am sinking into routines that don’t serve the greater good of my life.  Social fears, money fears, career fears, time fears, all of these sink into my psyche in the earlier parts of the day and I have found myself repeating old habits – I’m stuck.

 Moving to a new homeland can mean bountiful opportunities.  It can mean new worlds of creativity and choice, but it can also mean a lot of new scary details and also a repeat of old scary ones. The things that we all sort of dodge: Bills, social interactions with new people, figuring out how the day will go for your kids, for your job, for your spouse…  These are seemingly trivial and yet they are the stuff that makes up our day and a fear-based day is directed by how all of those entities will do should you (read me) just quit.

 What if I didn’t show up?

 Fear of failure.  Starting new means a blank slate and a blank slate means that new opportunities, new friendships, new routines won’t know what to make of you – there is no history.   And as weird as it sounds for a grown adult to admit, re-assuring a new person about you is exhausting. There is always the chance of failure. They may not like you.  Fear!  I am afraid of not being liked and so I retreat back into my crab shell and pinchers out I wait in the tide for a safe entry.  Often this means I avoid risking my own neck socially AND professionally. I hide.  And I have been. These last few weeks I have spent more days doddling around my computer than actually committing to me and to my work of writing.  Writing contains a high level of risk – people may not like it!  Aha! Fear rules again.

 And so you see where my head has been.  I have been trying to fling myself at new opportunities while maintaining some semblance of “normal” in the eyes of those receiving me.  I am both adventures and freaked out and the balance has to change. It’s not one or the other, but it’s time for me to approach life like it’s been waiting for me instead of waiting for it to look the other direction before I enter the room.