Several years ago I went to a four-day “Women’s Reboot” yoga retreat. I was excited to get away to take some deep breaths and do headstands.
When I arrived in Yogaville (yes, that’s the name of the town), my stomach turned at the idea of having to make nice with eleven women I’d never met before. I took extra long to unpack my bags to avoid the initial intros.
During the “reboot,” we did a lot of yoga, a lot of meditation, and a whole lot of self-reflection. While in Downward Dog or a circle talking about our feelings, I kept thinking about how much my husband would absolutely abhor an experience like this. Stretching, contemplating, and talking are three of my favorite activities, so this agenda was right up my alley.
As I sat on the floor in a chair called a BackJack and listened to the other women describe where they are in their lives and where they want to be in the future, I was taken aback by how many felt they weren’t living their best lives. Most of the women expressed a desire to make pretty big changes, but they were held back—and sometimes even paralyzed—by fear.
I felt deeply for these women, because they were experiencing a scenario I knew all too well. Two years ago, I sat exactly where they were: in a pile of fear.
At the time, I knew my lifestyle wasn’t healthy or sustainable. I admitted that I wasn’t doing what I was meant to do. And I knew deep down that I had to make a significant career change to find happiness and peace.
But I was terrified to do what needed to be done.
Looking back, much of my fear was rooted in others’ fears. Friends and family couldn’t fathom that I would give up a stable and secure salary for the uncertain life of an entrepreneur—and they voiced those fears to me. Regularly.
Their lists of fears were endless and often delivered in the what-in-the-world-are-you-thinking tone of the “You’ll shoot your eye out” scene in A Christmas Story.
While listening to the fears expressed by the other women on the yoga retreat while contemplating my own, something significant dawned on me. I’m a year and a half into my entrepreneurial adventure and not one of the fears that others projected on me came true!
Fear: “You think you’re working hard now? As an entrepreneur, you’ll work even more.” Reality: I’ve never worked fewer hours in my entire career.
Fear: “Your kids are getting older, and you’ll have less time for them.” Reality: I’ve never been on more school field trips, created more thoughtful teacher appreciation gifts, or eaten more FroYo with gummy worms.
Fear: “You’ll burn bridges at your old company by leaving.” Reality: I’m not blind to the fact that I disappointed some colleagues with my departure, but I have the utmost respect for everyone I worked with and what we accomplished together. We remain friends, and they’ve been valuable advisors to me ever since.
Fear: “What will you do when the printer breaks or when the Wi-Fi shuts down, and you can’t just pick up the phone and call the IT department?” Reality: I still call an IT guy when problems arise; he just works down the street instead of downstairs.
Wow. What a revelation. Good job, yoga camp.
Each fear ended up being what most fears eventually turn out to be: False Evidence Appearing Real.
The fears weren’t real. They were worst-case-scenario, hypothetical situations from those who meant well, but almost derailed my dream—not because they spoke their minds and warned me about what bad things could happen, but because I nearly believed them.
As I sat in my BackJack and listened to remarkable women talk about changes they needed to make in their lives (break up with a boyfriend, change jobs, move to another state, start a new business), my heart was practically beating out of my chest. I knew where they stood, and I knew they needed to leap anyway.
I’ll share with you what I shared with them.
The people around you love you deeply, which is why they’re giving you advice in the first place, but there’s a big difference between loving you and being you.
The people around you can’t hear your heart yearning to do something more meaningful, they don’t experience the inner conflict of your mouth saying “yay” when your heart says “nay,” and they can’t hear your inner voice bad mouthing you for not doing what you know needs to be done. The bottom line is, when it comes to taking a big leap, they don’t get to decide.
You get to decide.
So, do what you need to do to get it done. Go on a retreat, stand on your head, or lock yourself in the bathroom for an hour with your journal and a “do not disturb” sign. Figure out what you want out of life.
Love and respect those around you, but base your hopes, dreams, and choices on your heart and intuition. Don’t risk missing out on future happiness, because you bought into false evidence that appeared to be real.
Yogaville brought out a lot of firsts in me: first time going to sleep-away camp, first time eating a vegetarian diet for four days, and the first time realizing that none of my biggest fears ever came true.
Take the leap that your heart is telling you to take, believe you can do it, and believe you deserve it. Your fears will fall away.
