beginnings

“Temperamentally anxious people can have a hard time staying motivated, period, because their intense focus on their worries distracts them from their goals.” ― Winifred Gallagher

I have a slightly skewed superpower: when I look at any situation, I can see the conclusion. What makes my power skewed is that I can’t see the actual conclusion.  Instead I can see the worst possible conclusion; what could happen if I don’t do something like lock the door, do the risk assessment, buy travel insurance or go somewhere without first looking it all up on the internet.

I know that there are wonderful blessings from this power. I always – always – have the paperwork/ number/ list/ pen. I have flying down to a fine art, and I always have a plan. This has made me soar up the ranks in my career, and I can see how to use my power for good.

But for some reason when it comes to my dreams, this power holds me back.

You see, being able to see the worst means that I have been operating in a perpetual state of red alert. My husband only half-jokingly occasionally calls me a squirrel. That’s me: constantly preparing for winter. Running around, buying three of the things I like just in case I can’t find them again. Getting up to check if the door is locked. Knowing what could happen if I leap. I don’t look excitedly towards the fulfilment of my dreams, I worry about what will happen if they come true. If I stopped typing right now and focused on my body, I guarantee you my shoulders would be up around my ears and my stomach would be in a knot.

My soldiers are always at their battle stations.

But I have chosen align as my focus for 2014, and when I am standing on a beach in Costa Rica, I do not want to be worrying whether or not I have worn the right SPF. It’s time to use my power for good. Instead of believing the worst that could happen, I am choosing to let go of red alert. I am choosing to release the tightness in my belly. I am letting go of the story I tell myself of having to control everything in order to be safe. I am choosing to decide for myself how I will react. Red alert will no longer be my operating procedure, but a signal that it is time to pause, breathe and make a conscious decision. It’s time to remember that a) I am a grown-up now, b) I am always safe and c) I’ve got this.

So thank you to Red Alert. Thank you for all of the gifts you have given me. But I am ready now to stop letting you rule my life. Thank you, but I’m letting you go.

xo

This post is part of the Let it Go Project: a collection of stories leading up to a beautiful releasing ritual, hosted by Sas Petherick on the 30th of January. All the details for this free event are here. And you can take part! Be inspired by other posts in this project, and share what you are ready to let of of on the Let it Go Project Community Page!