I’m going to tell you a little story, about stories.
A few weeks ago, I sat at my desk working on a piece of content— a short video poem for Instagram. These experimental bits are fun to make, and this one was no different. I fell into that relaxed yet concentrated flow and even chuckled to myself as I wrote and spoke it. However, when it came down to sharing the video, a familiar feeling rose up within me.
Whenever I post something new in format or across a different platform, I feel a rush of nerves. Immediately I identify the rush with fear and create a story around it.
The stories I tell myself around this specific fear of expression vary. Sometimes it’s “oh this is uncomfortable because it’s different.” Sometimes it’s “I must still really care what others think.” Sometimes it’s, “All creators have fear, you just deal and move through it.” Sometimes I build the story up so much in my head, my nerves compounding until I think something is wrong, and then I don’t post anything at all. Slow clap!
I see the benefit of identifying an emotion to understand, accept, and ultimately release it. However, overintellectualizing my emotion, in this case, adding layers of a story onto what I feel, doesn’t always help.
For whatever reason, that afternoon I worked on my video, I decided to just sit and observe the nerves. I felt my chest pumping, blood pulsing to my fingertips, and my palms clam up. It’s wild how intense our bodies automatically respond (especially when we are sitting in our living room). Finally, after months of “battling” fear I didn’t generate any narrative into what the feeling was or why it was happening. I didn’t start telling myself a story about all the reasons I should be nervous or beat myself up for feeling nervous. From that brief pause, I ended up laughing at the grip these stories of fear had over me. It was as if I took my body’s response and made it a personality trait instead of just letting it wash over me. The video was posted to Instagram, not without a reaction, and with a different lingering mental game. I wondered, what if this feeling is just invigorating energy? What if it’s just excitement?
While writing this I found plenty of research that talks about how fear and excitement manifest similarly, if not identically, in the body, but it is the mind that decides the emotion. I’m not sure why it took me months to reframe this fear, into something more friendly such as eustress (the good type of stress) or excitement. I just kept believing the initial stories.
Humans need stories, our existence is based on them. The popular book Sapiens: A Brief Story of Humankind by the historian Yuval Noah Harari talks about how homo sapiens evolved into our power because we believe in things that exist purely in our imagination such as money, government, human rights, and religion.
Stories are also entertainment. Most of us operate with 4-6 logins for tv and movie content (we love comedies, tragedies, dramas) — subscription fever is real.
Stories help heal as much as they can cause unnecessary suffering. Some people use their imagination to name their inner critic, so they can recognize the voice and move past hurtful critiques that our minds generate. Maybe it first comes down to giving ourselves space. Sitting with emotions and triggers, noticing the first story that comes up, and observing if its script is helpful. Next is intention. How many intentional stories are you writing or rewriting to show yourself grace, love, and peace? Versus reactionary stories based on unease, blame, and stress?
It’s a lifetime practice to notice our layered stories— keeping the invigorating ones and releasing the destructive. We can’t control how our bodies react, and likely old stories will resurface. I don’t think my nerves are subsiding anytime soon, but as long as we lend curiosity and compassion, the story can shift. You get to be the screenwriter of your life.
5 things I’m mulling over
There’s a Name for the Blah You’re Feeling it’s Called Languishing
Mel Robbin’s video on how to reframe fear into excitement
Joy does not come from what you do, it flows into what you do and thus into this world from deep within you. 1
Nearly everything we are taught is false / except how to read. 2
I did not give anyone the responsibility for my life. It is mine. I made it... And can do what I want to with it. Live it. Give it back someday without bitterness, to the wild and weedy dunes. 3
Brooklyn Grange, August 2021
Eckhart Tolle, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose
Jim Harrison “Notation” Songs of Unreason
Mary Oliver, Upstream