I can. I am.

 

Why do I allow myself to feel afraid of every little thing? I have moments where I enter an emotional time machine. All of a sudden I am five again. My body is filled with butterflies. My stomach is in knots, my blood is jumping rope over my veins and the worries wonder within every thought. I create a million scenarios in my mind of a false reality that I trap myself within. I feel like the only thing in the world I need is to cry and be held.

 

I do it to myself.

I let my doubts take over my beliefs.

I let what someone says take over what I feel.

I let my concerns on what someone thinks of me overpower how I view myself.

I allow all of this to happen.

 

But none of this has to be.

I create my reality.

 

On days like today where I have a meltdown, question every possible thing, and try to figure out every aspect of my life in less than 24hours, a simple phone call from my brother can change it all. My brother might know my soul better than anyone else right now. He is my hero. He understands me, he pushes me, he believes in me, and he makes me believe in myself. He has gone through it all and shown the world and the doubts we have in ourselves and others have in us that he can do it. And he did it. He is the strongest and most inspiring person I know. There are not words for how good he is.

 

Today I was explaining that I think I am doing the right thing and he stopped me and said, don’t think that, you know it. You feel it. Just do it. Don’t worry about what people say or think, that doesn’t matter, they love you no matter what.

 

And he is right. I feel “this” is right. My gut knows this is. But when I enter my emotional time machine, I let doubts and disbeliefs to speak louder than my gut. I like to think that I can live this extraordinary life and live my dreams and have it all. And I know I can. I know I will. I know I am right now. I have already made so many amazing things happen. I just have to keep going.

But then I allow fear to enter. My mind fills with what society and what I think is suppose to be and how I am suppose to live take over my gut in my moments of fear. But that means nothing. There is no way anything is “suppose” to happen. It is nothing but a cultural pattern.

 

I don’t know how things will happen. But I know that they will. I need to trust and have faith and know in my heart that I am going to put in the work and that it will all work out.

 

I know that I can do this.

I know that I will do this.

I am doing this.

I don’t know what.

But I can.

And I will.

And I am.

 

So I write a big talk, but I still have my moments when I feel like the five year old girl who couldn’t make it to kindergarten without crying for her mommy and daddy. But I will allow myself to feel fearful and I will allow it to pass. I will feel like I felt that day on top of a mountain knowing that I am doing exactly what I need to be, while not knowing exactly what that is. I will know that I can do this. I will trust that it will all unfold exactly how it should. I will trust that I will always be provided for and taken care of. And I will have confidence in myself that I can do it. But confidence that I am not alone as well. I have the entire universe conspiring in my favor.

 

And there life stood

Her leaves fallen

Her limbs bare

But she couldn’t resist dancing

With her reflection

And the air

Your colors will change

And your leaves will fall

Nothing will make sense

Not even a little,

Not at all

You will be stripped

Until you have nothing left

But to see the beauty beneath

As you learn how to fall

As you let go of your leaves

And dance with the uncertainty

You’ll learn to live life as tranquil as a tree

One thought on “I can. I am.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s