Fear Of The Unknown: How To Slay A Panic Vampire
I woke up this morning and stared at my computer screen for a half-hour, not knowing what to write. I was basically Grady Tripp from Wonder Boys for a whole thirty minutes--minus the affairs, ex-wives, excessive pot-smoking, Marilyn Monroe memorabilia, and dogs in trunks. Okaaay, so nothing like Grady Tripp actually...
Thirty minutes is about the max length I ever stare at the computer screen—because it's not that I don't have anything to say. If you have read my writing for any length of time, you already know that lawd have mercy I. have. things. to. say.
NO, TODAY IT WAS THE KILLER OF COURAGE THAT GOT THE BETTER OF ME—FEAR OF THE UNKNOWN.
It’s that same fear that seems to be permeating every area of our lives right now. So much is happening that makes what’s ahead of us feel unknowable.
This morning, it started to wrap its greasy tentacles around the one thing I'm usually really good at protecting—writing.
Fear of the unknown is real and it is ri👏di👏cu👏lous. This asshat has us convinced that a guaranteed bad outcome is better than the risk that comes with creating a great one.
Pretty unreasonable, am I right? Like, who in their right mind would choose the moldy underwear option when they could go after the white-sand-beach-crystal-blue-waters-and-unlimited-mai-tais option?
The answer? All of us. All the damn time.
We don't leave the job we looooooooathe.
We don't get out of the relationships that keep punching our joy in the windpipe.
We don't write the book that’s been driving a clown car through our neocortex for ten years.
Half of the time we walk through our lives like sentient low-risk savings bonds.
Why? Because it's safer.
But is it?
IS IT SAFER TO PLAY IT SAFE?
Well, I'm a coach for bold introverts, so you can probably guess my stance on the issue.
Let’s take a gander at the quitting the job we loathe sitch. Job security was never really a thing for most people. And in our modern global economy, saying “I can’t quit my job because it’s safe” is basically a non sequitur. It’s like saying, “I can’t stop making rhubarb pies because my oven is broken.”
No, playing it safe is not safer.
But with Corona still ripping its way through our communities (looking at you, America. Ugh. *exasperated emoji*), The Unknown looms ever larger—like a panic vampire waiting to sink it's "No, don't do that!" fangs into our carotids.
So, so, soooo many people have put their lives on hold. They’re waiting to see how things are going to pan out.
But some people aren't waiting. Some people have decided they're going to be the ones that influence how things pan out. They're going to make the unknown know.
Those people have the Golden Goose Egg of Knowledge for living in a world of uncertainty:
THE STAGE OF NOT KNOWING IS TEMPORARY. WHEN YOU DO MORE, YOU’ll KNOW MORE.
We can’t let the fear of not knowing stop us from doing. Doing is the cure. Doing is the stake that we pick up and drive straight through the panic vampire.
When I sat down to write this morning, I felt that familiar goblin—The Unknown—drooling down my neck.
The fear that I don't know what people need to hear from me right now. The fear that maybe I don't know the best ways to support introverts who want to do big, bombass things while staring at a question-mark shaped future.
Then I remembered one really important thing: People come to me for a reason.
They come to me because I have the knowledge and tools to help them solve a particular set of problems. Those problems aren’t any different now than they were six months ago. If anything, they’re laid out far more clearly for lots of people.
Those tools and that knowledge aren’t any less effective now than six months ago.
They’re better. They’re more helpful now because they’re more needed.
I’m willing to bet your knowledge and tools are too.
Soon enough, the world will know more. It will know more about viruses and vaccines. It will know more about racism and privilege and a bunch of other not-so-pretty parts. It will know more about what it's willing to do to better those parts.
It will know more about what it will and will not stand for.
The stage of not knowing is temporary.
I don't have the timeline (though, November 3, 2020 is a big deal on the calendar). I don't know the whens and the hows. I don't know what we don't know yet.
But I do know that we're much more likely to get the answers and results we desire if we start acting before we know.
And I know that falling ass over teakettle in love with the adventure of the unknown will be the best damned affair of our lives.
If we let it.
Hit me up. What are you struggling with right now? How is your panic vampire slayage going?