The fine print of life that we never read says something like: getting means first giving up.
In the quest for self love, for wholeness, we learn to give up all of the things we’ve settled for to make room for what we actually want. It signals to the world around us that we are both ready and willing to accept only those things we truly want. Feel free to land exceeding and abundant right here, she’s ready.
Read: Don’t Save Her
How easy it seems to pick love and leave lukewarm. There’s a but: to quit settling, we must first learn to navigate fear. And, as it were, fear is a palpable, scary giant that threatens to choke out every speck of hope and can-do that exists within.
Fear will allow you to keep knock-off versions of your heart’s desires on life support all while pretending they fill you up the way the real thing would. She will allow you to convince yourself that the hole you feel deep in your soul, the uncanny something-is-missing feeling, is your hill to die on. She will tell you that it’s safe here in the valley; the valley is much better than trying to make it to the promised land and missing.
Read: Day Dreamin’
So we go back to dead things, hoping they will breathe new life in us, even if it means pouring our last into it and still reaping nothing in return. We build lives on almosts, as if they were worthwhile. We allow ourselves to give up on milk and honey dreams in favor of pragmatism and practicality.
Somewhere within life’s fine print that we never read is the reality that fear and winning live together. Milk and honey aren’t a luxury for those who experience life’s perfect storm. It’s the drink of those who put fear on their backs and carry it with them.
Maybe fear is really a compass. Maybe you take fear with you because that’s how you’ll know that you’re still after the things that matter. And if we really took a minute to sit with how she made us feel, we’d realize that she could be an ally.
Read: Faithing It
We’d use her as a gut check for when we’re losing sight of the passion that rouses us out of bed in the morning. We’d accept her like that pesky family member we love to hate, taking the meat and leaving the bones. And we’d stop taking her so seriously because fear, well she’s a liar.