I said, “never”.
And for the past 6 years I had been true to it. Never calling myself that, never wanting to investigate the possibilities, never acknowledging I am in fact damn good at it.
After a while, pride also got in the act ensuring I did not depart from my word, “never”.
Years passed, when one day in a moment where mindfulness, curiosity and opportunity collided – I noticed the thrill of the work, the mind tunnels back to other moments of such intrigue, and I said “yes”.
Fear and resistance. I am not the only one who had allowed fear and resistance to get in the way of progress. Fear of what it might mean to others, of what others might think. Fear of what I would have to do.
I knew I could do the work, and not just do the work but pretty good at it too. I have done the work. And to do more of this work meant I would have to come out of hiding and put myself on centre stage. And it is this which got me making excuses and finding justifications.
Retreating under the cloak of so-called humility and perfectionism – the standards by which many women have been measured, it was familiar and less scary. The price, a little less challenge and exhilaration in the life I knew. Moreover I was still doing what I love. Or so it seemed. I had lots to say about issues and circumstance, but little to inform the world of me. Being an introvert did not help. The joke (on me!) of course is few people thought I was not good enough, quite the contrary. How silly this all was, in hindsight!
I had not entirely hidden my light under a bushel. But I was not fully present either, if you know what I mean.
So I said, “yes”. I know not what made me decide to say “yes”. I just did. As Hannah Arendt said,
“storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it”.
And so in life.
I said, “yes” because now, it seemed right. And it seemed right because I am ready not to be perfect, ready to step into the arena.
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