You’ve had this experience, I’m sure.

You want to do something, create something, or try something, but before you begin, some drawback or hesitation jumps in and gives you pause.

Perhaps you want to write a book, start a business, go to a party, bake a soufflé, or adopt a puppy. Anything! Visions of the desired action fill you with excitement and eagerness – and then regular as clockwork come the “buts.”

  • But I don’t know how.
  • But no one will read it if it even gets published.
  • But my idea is naïve.
  • But I lack experience.
  • But people will laugh at me.
  • But people will be angry at me.
  • But I won’t know anyone, and I’ll feel awkward.
  • But it’s too expensive.
  • But I’ll probably embarrass myself.
  • But it could be a mistake, and what then?
  • But I’ve tried before, and it didn’t work.
  • But this might all come to nothing and break my heart.

I’ve thought every single one of these thoughts. Have you?

To keep moving towards the life I most desire to live, I’ve had to find a way to answer or at least soften them. Otherwise, I stay stuck. I say I want something, but I don’t take action. Or I take action and it feels like trudging through molasses.

What helps me a great deal is to frame this as a question of loyalty.

Which am I loyal to: the possibility of all the good that could come of this action, or my fear of the hurt or disappointment that could also come of it?

Because make no mistake: when you play all out in life, there are many failures and disappointments. This is especially true for artists but honestly, it’s true for everyone. You hear “no” and you face closed doors. And yes, you sometimes face embarrassment and dismissal. It can be very painful.

Still, I think a greater and more lasting pain results from shrinking from doing what our hearts call us to do because we are afraid.

One time I phoned a library director to ask if his library would like to host a program of Irish traditional songs and stories, and he yelled at me. Literally hollered. Accused me of being a grasping money grubber and told me how he sick he was of people like me.

When I got off the phone I shook for a few minutes.

And then I laughed!

I thought to myself, “Well, I’ve got that out of the way now. I just heard all the things I most dreaded hearing, and I’m still here, and I still believe in my programs, and I still believe in Irish songs and stories. Next!”

And then I made another call.

In this case, I decided that I’m more loyal to the magic, healing, fun, and community-building possibility of my programs than to the fear that someone might mistake me for a greedy shark.

Now as I finish a draft of my novel, I hear the voices pipe up with their invitations to stop, to forget this nonsense, and to focus instead on other things that they think are more “productive” or more of a “sure bet.” (Newsflash, Kate: there’s no such thing as a sure bet!). They say:

  • No one will probably read this anyway.
  • It’s just going to be another project no one cares about.
  • It’s just another big outlay of energy for no real purpose.
  • You have so many other more important things to do; you should probably just stop.

These thoughts can cause me to wobble and to put off my daily writing. What if they’re right?

But another voice, one of clarity and courage, answers: and what if they’re wrong?

What if someone reads your book and feels buoyed up and warmed into trusting life again? What if your story is exactly what someone needs to feel better? What if someone is completely delighted by your book?

I’ve decided to be loyal to that vision rather than the fearful one.

We all have this choice all the time. Like so many things in life, it’s not a one-and-done but an ongoing practice.

I want to be loyal to the beautiful possibilities of kindness, healing, creativity, fun, and joy. I want to choose the fresh air rather than remaining “safe” in the airless cupboard.

I want to be loyal to the very best life has to offer and to the very best that is in me.

I’m willing to bet you feel the same!

PS – Yesterday, by continuing to practice loyalty to possibility instead of loyalty to hopelessness and fear, I passed the 100,000 word mark on my novel in progress. Major YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

PPS – Photo by Victor Grabarczyk on Unsplash. Doesn’t this dog inspire you to be loyal to the best in everyone?

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