You’ve finally committed to doing that thing you’re afraid of.
It’s taken time, energy and effort to get to this point. For a long while, instead of a commitment, you had a a desire to do it. Rather than actually being committed, you wanted to be committed. It took you some time to realize that wanting to be committed is different from actually being committed.
But in time, you crossed that threshold, and have leaned over the edge.
Almost immediately you notice the chorus of voices that rises up to shout why you should turn away from this commitment. They talk about how things won’t work the way you want them to. How things will turn out wrong, how you’ll be shattered to pieces. How you’ll be a disappointment, either to yourself, or others, or both. How you’ll ruin yourself. How this won’t work the way it’s supposed to. It won’t look the way it’s meant to look, and people will laugh at you.
You keep leaning.
As time wears on, you get more concerned about how things are going to turn out.
There’s a right way for your commitment to manifest itself. Your commitment is becoming something more than simple commitment: you’re attached.
Intensity, frustration, anger. These all makes appearances. Fear too — fear that this thing you’re creating is going to suck. Fear that you are going to suck.
In the midst of it, these things seem like problems. They feel like an experience that should not be. If things were going the right way, you wouldn’t feel this way.
You often want to quit. You want to bail out, cut your losses, change your mind, do something different. You want to adjust your gradient. Maybe play at a lower level where you wouldn’t have to face the way you’re feeling.
Sometimes the chorus of voices takes a different tack performing a brand of ventriloquism where they speak as though your intuition, telling you that you wouldn’t feel this way if you were aligned and in flow with yourself. It sounds different, but it’s the same, safe advice: abandon this commitment, and feel better.
During these times, it’s hard to see the way you feel is the reason you committed to something in the first place. Absent your commitment, there would be no need to feel the way you do. Without your commitment, you really would just cut your losses and walk away. Without a commitment, there’s nothing holding your feet to the fire — nothing to keep you going forward.
Without a commitment, there is no through. There is only, away from, or in avoidance of, what you currently feel.
You are gently reminded of this fact, and you keep unfolding. You unfold by relaxing when you can. You unfold by getting supported to see with some altitude and spaciousness (as opposed to the tight urgency of how you feel), and you work to ensure your needs are getting met through these challenging times. Mind you, you stay committed — you just ensure that your commitment doesn’t become an altar to martyr yourself on.
Instead of changing your circumstances so that you can feel differently, you practice shifting how you are being with your circumstances. You practice changing your relationship to what is happening, rather than changing what is happening.
With kind, loving and rigorous support, you slowly start to let go of your image of how this process should unfold, and instead practice trusting the way it /is/ unfolding. Instead of having your commitment be a battering ram to blast through whatever is put in front of you, you learn to marry your vision with the will of god, spirit, and the universe.
The process isn’t easy. There’s a lot you don’t want to let go of. A lot of trained habits that once served you greatly, but now simply create stress and strain. But gradually, like a flower opening to the sun, you release your attachment to how things should go, so that you can integrate and be with how they are going.
Without relinquishing your commitment, you start to transcend its rigidity. Like a child in partnership with the world around you, you return to innocence.
And in creating a softness with the world around you, you notice something on the inside that was never there before — a softness with yourself.
Releasing your attachment to how it works out, you turn back towards what is unfolding…