Lately, I’ve been saying yes to things that scare the shit out of me.

And these aren’t things I don’t want to do. That’s actually what has made me start paying attention. I want to do them. I’m excited about them. And I can still feel incredibly uncomfortable about doing them.

Over the last little while, I’ve gone to a women’s circle alone, signed up for a two-hour ecstatic dance, and invited a girlfriend and her girls into this part of my world while they were visiting, sharing a burn ritual together and taking them dancing. I’ve committed to hosting a ceremony in my home every month until the end of the year.

And now I’ve said yes to facilitating at Saunapalooza at Smith Lake Farm.

That one scared the shit out of me before I even said yes.

I thought about it. Questioned whether I really wanted to do it. Thought about the anxiety I knew would probably come with it. Wondered whether adding another new thing to my life right now was a completely ridiculous idea.

And then I said yes anyway.

The fear was still there when I said yes. So was the part of me that really wanted to do it.

And that distinction is becoming really important to me.

Wanting Something Doesn’t Always Feel Comfortable

I think I used to believe there would eventually be a point where I would just feel ready. That confidence would arrive first, the anxiety would settle down, and I would somehow know for certain that I could handle whatever I was considering.

Then I’d just do it. (Lol, no, Nike has not sponsored me.)

Except that’s rarely how it happens for me.

I can really want something and still be fucking terrified of it. I can be excited and anxious at exactly the same time. I can picture myself doing something, loving it, being ridiculously proud of myself afterward, and still spend the days leading up to it wondering if I’ve lost my damn mind.

For a long time, that discomfort had a lot of power. If something made me that anxious, surely that meant something.

Now I’m starting to question that assumption.

When the discomfort shows up, I’m trying to give myself enough time to figure out what it’s actually telling me.

Do I genuinely not want to do this? Or am I scared because I do?

Those can feel incredibly similar when I’m right in the middle of them.

Learning to tell the difference is changing the way I make decisions.

Sitting With the Discomfort

This is the part I’m actually practicing.

When the anxiety shows up, my instinct can still be to make it stop. Cancel the thing. Change my mind. Find a perfectly reasonable explanation for why now probably isn’t the right time anyway. And let me tell you, I can build a very convincing case. 😂

But lately, I’ve been trying to give myself a little space before I react to it.

Sometimes that means breathing and noticing what’s actually happening in my body. Sometimes I write about it. Sometimes I talk it through with someone I trust. Sometimes I picture myself actually doing the thing instead of only imagining everything that could go wrong.

And sometimes I just have to let being uncomfortable feel uncomfortable for a while.

I don’t need to solve the feeling immediately.

That has been a big shift for me.

Because when I stay with it long enough, the initial wave settles and I can usually hear myself a little more clearly. I can ask the question from the last section and actually listen for the answer.

Do I want out because this genuinely isn’t right for me?

Or do I want out because leaving would make the discomfort disappear?

I’m learning there’s a difference.

And the more often I stay long enough to find it, the more I trust myself with whatever answer comes next.

What I’m Finding on the Other Side

The women’s circle I was nervous to attend alone? I loved it.

Ecstatic dance? I signed up for two hours having absolutely no idea what I was walking into, and now it’s something I want to go back to. When Katie and her littles were visiting, they came with me, and one of her girls spent the entire two hours completely in her element, on the floor in her own little world. Watching her made me so ridiculously happy it brought me to tears.

They also noticed my cauldron on my altar while they were here and asked what I used it for. I told them about the burn ritual I do every month, and they wanted to do it too. So we did.

These are little things, maybe. But I keep thinking about how easily I could have missed some of them.

I could have stayed home instead of walking into that first circle. I could have decided ecstatic dance was way too far outside my comfort zone. I could keep waiting until I feel more confident before I host anything of my own.

Instead, I’ve committed to hosting a ceremony in my home every month until the end of the year.

And Saunapalooza is still ahead of me.

I have no idea yet what will be on the other side of that one. I’m still nervous about it. I’m still thinking about it probably far more than necessary. 😂

But I’m going to get to find out.

And I think that’s what all of these yeses have been giving me.

The chance to find out.

I’m Still Scared

None of this means I’ve suddenly become fearless. Lol.

I can still overthink something into another fucking dimension. I can imagine seventeen different ways something could go wrong before breakfast. I can question myself, want reassurance, and have moments when backing out seems infinitely easier than staying with what I’ve decided to do.

I just understand that feeling differently now.

Fear can be part of the decision without being the one making it.

There will absolutely be things I say no to. There will be things I change my mind about. Sitting with discomfort gives me enough time to figure that out too.

But when the answer underneath all of the noise is still yes, I want to trust that.

I want to keep walking into rooms I’m nervous to enter. I want to keep trying things I’m curious about. I want to keep creating things that make me wonder if I’ve completely lost my mind before I’ve even started. 😂

I don’t know if I’ll ever be someone who feels completely ready before doing the things that scare me.

I’m starting to think I don’t need to be.

I can be scared.

I can sit with it.

And I can still say yes. ❤️

I’ve left a light on for you.
Shannan