Sitting down with my partner this week, I was filled with a wild, vibrating energy. I had a full-fledged, head-to-toe body buzz. Spending every waking moment pouring my heart, mind and energy into my new business, I was feeling like Gumby on a playground. I told my husband I felt distant and manic during the past couple of weeks and as though I had let my committed responsibilities to our home and family slip, in lieu of my passion project.
He graciously assured me that it is inspiring and exciting to see me in my element. Being the amazing support system that I could never live without, and am not sure that I deserve, he asserted that both he and the kids have bandwidth to pick up extra duties so that I can push full force toward my dreams. He then said something that both crushed and lifted my spirits.
“Babe”, he said, “as long as I can remember, you get these ideas and run with them [fast as hell and with scissors] until you burn out, spin out, or otherwise crash head first into a full stop. This thing is different. You are planning, actioning, and focusing on producing something.” Whoa. It was as if the unspoken cancerous mass in the suppression of my consciousness was crystalized in the exhalation of his words.
Everything he said was true, I am a revolving door of ideas. Some are outlandish, some are mere genius, and others are just plain whack. They light me on fire and then precipitously douse me with a healthy dose of fear. All the typical fear mongers show up; failure, success, busy-ness, judgement, being seen, not being seen, fraud, exposure, antipathy, and on. Those assholes have bonded together, shoving ‘Excuse Me’ into the driver seat. That diva has been there ever since, with her boring responses to my inspiring ideas.
Excuse Me spent the past decade pondering and dreaming up a whole mess of nothin’. She was too busy building an excuse labyrinth to focus on creating something. She was always too “busy” and without enough money. Her kids were too little and she was too involved in their activities. The truth is, she just did not believe she was enough. She did not think anyone had anything to learn from her or that her experiences were unique enough to make a difference in someones life.
Excuse me is either dead or cunning in her hiding abilities. I do fear that she will come sneaking around the corner just at the moment I am prepared to do something brave and exciting, but I haven’t felt her impulse at all recently. Instead, I feel a new Me emerging and she is interesting. She is bold and fearless. She seems ready and confident, like a toggle slide-bar that is just about ready to snap to her centeredness.
If right time/right place is a thing, it’s the kind of thing that feels as though a lightning bolt has struck your central nervous system. I don’t want to lose the power of its energy. I feel as though I have to out-pace this elusive ray so it does not leave me. I sure the hell hope Excuse Me does not come running back from her hiding place to find me enjoying my life without her, she may begin throwing knives at my dreams again.
Right time and place needs some context, I think. I did not just fall onto this shiny spot and luck into this magical feeling. This seminal moment is one of alignment and fruition. It has taken years of fastidious saving, faithful investing, grinding it out, hustling and sacrificing to get to a place of freedom; and now that I am here I think there is simply no more room for Excuse Me in this house.
Maybe a bit of Excuse Me was a safeguard against unpreparedness and maybe she was a placeholder for the new Me. Maybe she was groundwork for humility and understanding. Maybe she was just a bitch. Who knows. I hope I do not run into her one day at the coffee shop just before I am about to launch my next course; but if I do, maybe I’ll have the grace to give her a hug and ask her to join me for a cuppa.
As for the new Me, I am starting to realize the student appears when the teacher is ready.
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