Over and over again I have seen people who, measuring their progress by the old standard, don’t feel like they are making very much headway. And then, just like the sun breaking through the clouds on a winter day, they turn a corner, and their whole relationship to their compulsions and with themselves changes.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
The nature of the human being is progress. The addictive pulls that pervade our culture, that claw at us in thousands of recorded messages, lie to us when they urge us to find some quiet backwater of “peace.” Our real nature is to swim in the current. We are much more trout than clams.
She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go. She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a book on how to let go. She didn’t search the scriptures. She just let go. She let go of all of the memories that held her back. She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of all of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
Everytime I write a book, I’m challenged to live the message. I had to face my own perfectionism when I wrote The Gifts. I had to come face-to-face with criticism and courage when I wrote Daring Greatly, and I had to challenge all the stories when I wrote Rising Strong. Writing this book on true belonging felt like months of living in the wilderness to me.