The build up was so intense
for so long.
I thought it was going to be such a big deal.
And when the moment finally came,
I was like, “Meh.”
What was all the fuss about?
My house is going into foreclosure.
My husband stopped paying on it
when he moved out in April.
I’m not sure how much time I have left here,
and I don’t know where I’ll go if I have to leave.
My friends are starting to worry about me.
I ask them to pray instead of worry.
My mind is starting to worry about me.
I ask my mind to pray instead of worry.
There are many variables in this equation
but there is one thing I know for sure:
worry will not help.
Therefore, I refuse to worry.
I stand on the precipice of something new.
Behind me is the familiar,
and there are so many reasons to stay there,
to not take the risk of falling, of dying.
But to go back wouldn’t feel right.
I am not that person any more.
I am bigger than my fear of embarrassment
or failure or ridicule or misunderstanding,
and I have something to give to this world.
So I take another step forward,
and scared as hell,
I unfurl my wings.
Are they strong enough?
Will they hold me?
Will the wind bear me aloft?
Will I spin out of control?
Will I crash and burn?
but this not knowing is okay.
I cannot go back.
I am not that person anymore.
I am bigger than my fear.
And I have something to give to this world.
I am preparing a workshop–my very first–as a requirement of my 500 hour advanced yoga teacher certification. Only two weeks until the workshop, and I am plagued by doubt, fear, insecurity. I have taught yoga thousands of times, but for some reason a workshop feels so scary, the responsibility feels so heavy. And yet I am deeply moved by the potential for my offering to benefit those who attend, and as the attendees transform even on the most minute levels, they in turn will aid in the transformation of many others. So in addition to feeling scared out of my mind, I am also feeling excited, humbled, and energized.