A man just sat down next to me in the coffee shop. I didn't notice him at first, not until his body odor reached my nostrils. I sat up straighter and eventually stole a sideways glance at him. His hair, matted; his clothes, dirty. In front of him sits a steaming shot of espresso. At $2.15, it's the cheapest thing Starbucks sells.
I am in this moment acutely aware of the privileged life I lead. That I'm paying $80 for a babysitter right now, plus another $5 for the overpriced coffee in front of me, so that I can type words on a screen that may or may not be important to anyone besides myself.
It seems he's come here to charge his phone.
I have come here to charge my heart, but instead have wallowed here at my circular table and down internet trails. I have questioned my value, ability, and direction in the span of a few hours and written zero words on a page because when you question your value, ability, and direction there's not much to write.
He's leaving now. He shuffle/limped to the trash/recycle/compost area and took a moment to decide where to deposit his cup. I'm surprised by this for some reason. A beige trench coat is draped over one arm as he exits the building on this summer day. I wonder how he got here in life. I have no idea where he will go next. I wonder if he knows.
The truth is, though, that I have no idea where I'm going either. I have every single thing I could ever need, a beautiful family, a lovely home, and yet my heart feels homeless sometimes. I don't really know what I'm doing in life. Does anyone? Do you?
I'm inspired by people who seem to know who they are. They are confident in what makes them unique and live fully into that. They build businesses and lives out of the sheer fabric of themselves, and it's motivating and paralyzing at the same time.
What if my fabric is not worth sewing?
I'm learning, however, that this war with myself is bigger than me. It's something that every person faces in time. But it often feels like a pretty lonely and misunderstood place. It's a place that not many of us are brave enough to talk about, but we all experience.
Most of us have two lives. The life we live and the life we want to live. What stands between the two is fear, doubt, resistance.
Stephen Pressfield writes in The War of Art, "Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work...Resistance is always lying and always full of shit."
Amen to that.
The other thing he said that has been pushing me forward right now is this, "Resistance will unfailingly point to true North - meaning that call or action it most wants us to stop doing. We can use this. We can use it as a compass. We can navigate by resistance, letting it guide us to that calling or action that we must follow before all others."
When we question and doubt, the misunderstanding people in our lives might think, "We are here again?" with an internal eye roll. But this resistance is an unrelenting force. It is a battle that must be fought every single day in order to win the war. Each morning brings new resistance and new fear that must be slain.
If you feel this resistance and want to give up, I beg of you to press on. If you are asking yourself, "Who am I? Am I really a writer or artist or good mother or strong businesswoman?" chances are you already are. Those with total confidence are the counterfeits among us. The real ones are scared to death.
You have no idea how much peace that gives me. I've been scared to death my whole life of the things I'm trying to do. I always thought there was something wrong with me; I think other people did too. The truth is though, that I'm fighting a unrelenting battle on this earth to live into the life that I'm supposed to, and I always will be.
I feel compelled to say today that if you are afraid, unsure, unravelling, or paralyzed, I get it. I get you. I am unfortunately a master of self-sabotage, and have committed treason on myself more times than I can count.
There is no such thing as a fearless warrior. What matters most, though, is not living without fear; it's facing the fear with trembling hands and punching it in the face.
This place of fear. This place where you are stuck is not the end. It is the middle.
There is no way out, only through.
The middle is hard, y'all. The middle is where we give up. The middle feels like treading water, and we can't see the distant shore. But the middle is the place of transformation...it's the whole point. It's where we decide to sink or swim, to make life a daring adventure or numb ourselves right out.
Please don't stop in the middle. We are meant to experience the middle like a butterfly is meant to experience the struggle of emerging from it's chrysalis. Without the struggle, it can't fly. Neither can you.
If you've been waiting, comparing, and making excuses, stop. Stop waiting. Stop comparing. Stop making excuses. Just go and do that thing. Even if it's hard. Even if you're scared. Everything you want lies on the other side of your fear. And believe me, I'm preaching to the choir here.
It takes intense heat to refine precious metal, intense pressure to make a diamond, intense irritation to create a pearl. Our transformation is no different.
I'd rather be the diamond than the lump of coal. You?