It seems that there is a certain degree of self-doubt in the air. It makes me think of the many times I have experienced self-doubt; it makes me wonder what causes an individual to doubt themselves.
From time to time I reflect back on the times when I was seeing a student-therapist and he suggested that perhaps I had a fear of success, not failure, but of success. Back then I was the same person, but much more timid and I was very insecure. I had much more self-doubt. I think of his words from time to time and wonder if there could be truth in them for some people: The fear of success. I am forever grateful to him because, quite possibly without his assistance and nudging, I may not have re-signed up for community college courses, back in those beginning years. I may have continued doubting myself with a vengeance.
I feel as though I spent a great deal of my life in self-doubt and there are still moments it comes up. Mostly, I feel as though I've broken through certain self-barriers. On the one hand I can view my experience as both a blessing and a curse. It has taken me much longer to reach certain milestones because it seemed I was constantly rolling myself up a hill only to roll back down. On the other hand, if I had not rolled back down and brushed myself up and got going back up the hill, I don't know that I'd appreciate the present moment quite as much as I do.
I still stumble, but I feel better able to trust myself. After conquering one of my worst fears ever--public speaking--I've felt that I can do anything that I set my mind to. I know that may not seem like a big thing; it certainly was for me. With certain other life events, I've learned to embrace and act on the sayings that "life is too short" and "what do you have to lose?"
Our lives are each our own with very significant questions and decisions that only we can answer with help from our inner guides. It's comforting to know that we're not alone on our journeys. We may encounter a rocky road or perhaps it will be smooth. We won't know unless we try. If our passion is true in our hearts, souls, minds, and bodies, we know what we must do.
By moving past our fears and learning to trust ourselves, acknowledging the fears, yet being open and knowing that it's going to be alright, if we trust ourselves and listen to our guts, we won't lose ourselves in the process; we will still maintain our essence--this is what I believe.
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2 comments:
I'm enjoying your more frequent postings, Rebb. If I haven't commented it has been because ... no, I shall not select from a string of feasible excuses but append this quotation from one of my favourite writers:
"Why do I write, if I can’t write any better? But what would become of me if I didn’t write what I can, however inferior it may be to what I am? In my ambitions, I am a plebeian, because I try to achieve; like someone in a dark room, I’m afraid to be silent. I’m like those who prize the medal more than the struggle to get it, and savour glory with a fur-lined cape." (Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, 152)
Ah, Vincent. What an apt quote. You know, if not for your love of Pessoa and your mention of him in your blogs, I may not have discovered him. I have the very book you’ve quoted from—because of you—and I’ve flagged this page now because I have someone that I am going to share it with. I think if they do not know of Pessoa, they will appreciate him very much, especially this section 152. I have long wanted to write about how I came to Pessoa and when I do I will likely refer to “Vincent, the muse.” And who knows, maybe this piece in my mind will never materialize. If it does, I will probably read more of Pessoa first. I have only read snippets and I enjoy the introduction very much, to learn about these different aspects of Pessoa’s writing personas and that they each had their own likes and dislikes, etc., is so very interesting. The little bit that I’ve been exposed to his writing both through you and his book is that I also feel a sort-of kindred spirit in him in that I too feel that I experience different writing voices, but not in the elaborateness of Pessoa. Also, his writings are so fresh and alive because these particular writings were not intended for publication necessarily—is that right? That’s what I understand, having found most of these in a trunk. There is an aliveness and that freedom that we know and talk about that comes with writing without worry or fret of how the words come out. I have found this quality in my own old journals, as I know you have too.
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