“I am not working hard enough.”
“The mole on my left hip is cancerous.”
Fears are powerful, especially if left unheard.
My coach shared a compelling fear practice with me during our last session. She invited me to write out my fears every day for three weeks. She noted the practice as “transformational” in reflection of her own experience. I was intrigued, understood its relevance & importance, and I agreed I would try.
On day one, my pen was slow to write - at first. Within a few minutes, however, I uncovered a list of worries that ranged from laughable to uncomfortably true. I filled an entire page - front & back.
“I do not have enough money.” “I shouldn’t have quit.” “Everyone is going to say, ‘I told you so.’”
On this day, I burned my list; I crumpled my words in a ball, and watched the match char my fears to dust. It wasn’t quite as rewarding as I thought it’d be, so on day two I tried something different.
On day two, I created two columns - one to list my fears, and the other to list new beliefs or statements to counter each fear. This is an exercise I commonly utilize with clients when working through old & new belief patterns. “There isn’t enough time” transformed to “there is always enough time.” “I shouldn’t have taken that rest day,” reframed, “rest aids productivity & wellness. I trust myself.”
Although this exercise shift was interesting, I found I got lost in the thought of it & decided to shift, again, on day three.
After I wrote out my fears on day three, I simply crossed them out. Below my ‘deleted’ list of fears, I also wrote a few affirmations - to recenter, reframe, & leave my desk feeling expansive, rather than depleted. This version of the fear excercise felt great.
I have continued to write out my fears in this way for one week now, & I remain intrigued as I watch it unfold in front of me. My list is already shorter than it was on day one; some fears naturally fell away completely after I allotted space for them to be heard. Some fears now even feel comical - to the point where one will come to mind such as “I do not deserve a break,” and I laugh instead of write it down.
Simultaneously, however, some new, more intimate fears have started to appear. These fears, I’m considering, may have a valid point - prompting me to act rather than burn them away. And so I learn another layer of this exercise:
With some fears, it feels best to reframe or laugh or cross them out: of course there is enough time; of course I deserve a break; I trust, deeply, that my work is meaningful and valuable.
Alternatively, some fears request pause. Is the mole on my left hip cancerous? I will make sure to ask at my doctor’s appointment this month.
And. Even the fears I choose to act upon or reflect with further can be crossed off once I decide upon a response. “I will ask at my doctor’s appointment this month.” In other words, I have a plan; I can release that fear, for now - thank it for serving me, for prompting me to take proactive care of my health - and then, release it.
I remind my clients every day that fears are not bad or wrong. Almost always, fears simply speak to a consideration - a belief, or value, or task. “Money is necessary to live.” ‘I wish to spend time with my significant other.” “I value hard work.” “I was taught that hard work leads to wellbeing.”
This is why voicing fears is so powerful. Because it lays considerations out in the open to be just that - something for us to consider. Do we choose to adopt it, or burn it away? Will we act, or cross it off our list for now?
As I am still mid-experiment, there is certainly more to come as I learn from my fears (true & laughable), & remain curious about my relationship with them.
I invite you to join me in your own fear experiment. Write out your fears every day for one week. What is interesting about your list? What are you surprised by? What made you laugh? What will you act upon, and what do you choose to dismiss?
Walking with you on this journey, together -
Marin
