Deconstructing “I’m Not Enough”

mask

I’ve never yet met a person who didn’t suffer from some form of insecurity. We all feel – because we’re all taught (but that’s a different blog post) – like we are inadequate or not good enough in some way. The list of things that could make you “not good enough” is endless. You’re too tall/short, thin/fat, dark/light, rich/poor, genius/average, or creative/logical, your credit score it too low or too high, you don’t drive the right car, wear the right shoes, or know the right people.

There’s never a shortage of ways to make you feel crappy about yourself and there’s also an endless supply of people who will gladly point out your inadequacy because they feel so badly about themselves that the only way they know how to bring themselves up is by putting someone else down.

What’s weird about your feeling of being not enough is that, you’re right. You’re NOT enough! Let me explain…

The moment your soul entered into a human body, you became not enough. Why? Because there is a deeper part of you that will always know that you are so much bigger than you could ever be in human form. You will always feel a sense of internal struggle as a result. The further you stray from your recognition as a spiritual being with limitless power, the more you will feel this sense of not enough-ness. That’s why spirituality helps you shake off the angst of the man-made version of your inadequacy. When I say spirituality, I’m not speaking of religion that tells you that you’re broken in some way without a Savior that’s outside of you, nor am I speaking of “I’m so spiritual I need to announce it every ten minutes” posing. I’m talking about the type of connection with your version of Higher Power that allows you to sense and know the greatness that’s both within and around you. Tapping into this will allow you to much more easily navigate the man-made version of inadequacy.

On the flip side, the part of you that feels like you can’t be your authentic self without living in complete isolation is simply afraid (and also wrong). You ARE enough. Why? Because you are the only YOU that has ever existed and that ever will. No matter what you’re measuring against, there will always be someone who is in a different part of the spectrum than you are. If you’re short, for example, there will always be someone taller and there will always be someone shorter. Comparing yourself is a completely subjective and almost always illegitimate method of measuring your worth because the data is always skewed in favor of which interpretation you’re trying to find evidence of. The only thing that nobody can ever compete with you on, not even your “identical” twin, is your YOU-ness. There is only one of you.

Ironically, while you’re busy sitting around saying “who am I to…”, the world is wishing and wanting for someone exactly like you to appear. There is a gift inside you that nobody else has, there’s a message within you that nobody else can deliver in the same way you would say it and there are people who can’t hear that message or accept that gift if it is delivered in any other way.

People around you want you to be just like them because that’s within their comfort zone. It doesn’t force them to look beyond themselves or to acknowledge that they aren’t being real either. It’s only through you having the courage to be YOU in all your splendor and all your oddity, that the world around you gets to see that it’s possible and start the shift for themselves.

It sounds simplistic but, at the end of the day, you own your life. You get to choose what to do with it. Will you continue to feed at the trough of inadequacy or will you unleash your sparkle?

Leave me a comment and tell me your choice 😉

 

Photo credit: wolfgangfoto / Foter / CC BY-ND

Just Doing It

afraid

I have a secret. I’m afraid people will come to my website.

I have a great deal of website shame. My content is not all that I feel like it should be so I blog on a different site (http://shaylalogan.wordpress.com/). People LOVE my blog! My website? … not so much.

SO I decided to sign up for the Spiritual Badass 30 Day Blog Challenge AND I plan to post the blogs on this site.

Why? Well, first because it will motivate me to get my site in order. Second, I’d rather have all of my stuff in one place so it is easier for both me and my clients. And third, because sometimes the easiest way to get past your angst is to just move, even if it is in tiny steps.

Being a Professional Fear Buster means that I get to experience all kinds of fear and then bust through it. Each time I do so, I grow and I’m able to help my clients grow even more too. Win-win!

So, today, my plan is to be like Nike and Just Do It. Welcome to Day 1 🙂

 

 

Like what you’re reading? Sign up for my periodic newsletter and get a FREE video, “The First 3 Steps to Overcoming Fear” [button link=”http://forms.aweber.com/form/96/525927796.htm” size=”small” bgColor=”#ab3720″ target=”blank”]Yes, I’d love to get fear busting tips![/button]

Writing Lynne Twist

image5

A couple of years ago, a friend told me about a book called “The Soul of Money” by an author named Lynne Twist. A few days later, someone else mentioned an organization called the Pachamama Alliance, which had been founded by a woman named Lynne Twist. Shortly after that, I saw an ad that she was coming to town. Prior to those three occurrences, I had never heard of her. Typically, when something comes into your awareness, you then start to see it all the time. Partially
because you’re now more aware and partially because there is a reason why you’re seeing this particular thing or hearing about a particular person, over and over again.

I purchased her book but didn’t sit down to read it. At the same time, something started nagging me inside. I started feeling like I really needed to meet her. I had no idea why and even less of an idea how I would make it happen.

Despite knowing nothing about her and still not having even read her book, the voice that told me I must meet her, grew stronger. Finally, my partner (who is great at presenting things to me in a way that makes them seem innocuous) said, “I wonder what would happen if you just wrote to her? She’s on Facebook; you could just send her a message. She is coming to town in a couple of months. Maybe you could write and ask if she would meet with you when she comes to town.” My initial thought was, “HELLLLL NAW! You have lost your ever-lovin’ mind! I can’t just write to some complete stranger and say, ‘You don’t know me but the voices in my head tell me we should meet.’ That is SO not happening!”

The nagging feeling that I needed to meet her would not go away, though. After awhile, I started to consider the insane proposition that I should write to someone I didn’t know – someone famous, to boot – and request a meeting. I started to ask myself WHY I didn’t want to do it. I came up with lots of legitimate sounding reasons but, in the end, I was forced to admit it was because I was afraid. I was afraid she would say no. I was afraid she would think I was some stalker lunatic and put a restraining order out on me. Worst of all, I was afraid she would say yes, we would meet, and I would just sit there being socially awkward because I really didn’t know what the hell I would say to her.

What really sucks, when you do a lot of work with people on overcoming their fears, is that you can’t just cave to what frightens you any more. All my cred as a fear guru would have gone out the window. I had no remaining choice but to sit down and craft a Facebook message to her.

My palms turned sticky from all the sweat, my heart was beating so hard I could feel the vibration in my ear drums, my throat turned bone dry. I went into a state that was on the border of being a blackout and I typed whatever came to me. I don’t even remember what I said. It was something like, “I need to meet you, I have no idea why, please don’t think I’m psycho.” I hit send before I could back out. For the first few days after that, I checked my Facebook messages incessantly. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss her response. It was a moot point; she never wrote back.

A month later, I needed to write to someone else I didn’t know. I don’t even remember why now. It was only slightly frightening. I realized then that it was never actually about meeting Lynne Twist but about having the courage to write her to request it. Courage is like a muscle; the more you use it, the stronger it grows. Writing that letter was my first step in building the courage muscle I needed to put myself out into the world more, without fear. Had I not done it, I would probably be a lot farther behind than I am now.

For the record, when she came to town, I went. I sat in the front row and when her talk was over, I bounded up onto the stage. She hugged me. I told her about my letter and she admitted she doesn’t really use Facebook; she has staff that does that. She then gave me her email address so I could reach her directly and she encouraged me to write. I smiled and nodded but I knew, in that moment, that the purpose she was meant to serve in my life had been fulfilled. I have never written to her again but I know, if I had a reason to, I could do so with ease.

How are you building your courage muscle?

Photo credit: TEDxSandHillRoadWomen / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Taking off the Training Wheels

image4

I got my first bicycle when I was 6 years old. It had a beautiful pink sheen, a white banana seat with pink daisies, and streamers coming off the handlebars. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and I struggled to contain my excitement.

Our house was on a hill and there was a long staircase to get down to the sidewalk. My father told me to wait until he carried my bike down the stairs. I, however, was an excited 6 year old. I was still in the stage of life where I considered myself invincible; fear hadn’t yet found a comfortable place to settle within me. It was a beautiful sunny day with just a slight breeze and I was already dressed and ready. The sun and my new bicycle were screaming at me to come play and my father was taking way too long, in my opinion. I thought, “I’ll just ride back and forth in front of the house until he comes out.”

I quietly left the house and, as soon as the door closed, I realized I wasn’t strong enough to carry the bike down the stairs by myself. “That’s ok”, I thought, “I’m really good at riding my Big Wheel and this is just a big girl version. I will just ride it down the hill.” I smiled at the thought of the adventure ahead.

I then got on the bike, pedaled twice, and flew down the hill at breakneck speed with no control whatsoever. The bicycle twisted and bucked, like it had come alive and was imitating a wild stallion. I flew over the handlebars, through the air, and somehow managed to smash, knees and face first, into a large unyielding tree. I was covered in blood and bits of bark, my knee was cracked open, my face had road rash, and my first experience in learning fear (from something or someone other than my mother) had just occurred. The world was no longer a friendly place. It was a place where bicycles turned ugly and trees beat up on little girls.

It was another year before I could be coaxed into getting anywhere near a bicycle. When I turned 7, my father bought me a new bike and conned me by telling me he was putting training wheels on it. He demonstrated how it would be impossible (his words, not mine) to fall if I had training wheels; I’d be totally safe. Not only that, but he would run behind me whenever I rode, for as long as it took…he promised. I warily got back on the bike. He would run behind me and I’d do fine until I realized he wasn’t there anymore. If I’d even teeter, I’d jump off the bike, hysterical, and run back to him. That only went on for a few months and then the weather started making it too difficult to even try. That winter, my father got sick. He passed away a few days after my 8th birthday. There was nobody left to run behind me.

Although I hadn’t had any significant falls since my rendezvous with the tree, the mere thought of it terrified me. My father being gone made it worse. Several years passed and I rode as infrequently as possible. Then I turned 10 and riding a bike became the cool thing to do. Even then, I still rode with training wheels. I knew, deep down, it wasn’t fashionable or age appropriate to do so but my fear was bigger than my concern about being socially appropriate.

At 12, I still had training wheels. One day, I was riding around my neighborhood and one of the neighbor boys called me a “sissy” and pointed and laughed at my training wheels as I went by. By that point in my life, I had endured more than most people do in 3 lifetimes. I lived in a reality where surviving from day to day was a miracle. Fear was all I knew.

I think I knew at some level, though, that I had strength that went to unfathomable depths. I was a quiet, meek kid who tried to stay as unnoticed as possible but something about having my strength challenged, set me off. “Sissy” was like a trigger word for me. I would go to great lengths to make whoever dared to utter those words, regret it. I rode to a neighbor’s house, borrowed some tools, rode back down the street, maneuvering the bike with one hand and gripping the training wheels with the other. I rode up to him and literally threw my training wheels at him as I rode by, hitting him in the head. “I am NOT a sissy!!”, I yelled defiantly as I rode past. He was too busy crying to notice.

It is highly likely that I hadn’t actually needed the training wheels for several years, but fear often makes you hold on to things you don’t really need. Just as my first day on a bicycle had been my first major lesson in fear, the day I removed my training wheels was my second. I learned that fear can be overcome if there is something that is bigger or more important to you than holding on to it. I had been laughed at and called a big baby prior to that day but there was something about the word sissy that made me want to fight it. Sissy was my “something bigger”. What I have learned over the years is that there is always a “something bigger”. You just have to find it.

What are the training wheels in your life?
Photo credit: striatic / Foter.com / CC BY

Rise

20130303-234329

I was planted in chaos
Blossomed in the muck
Concealed my beauty
Quiet and unseen

Safety became the rock
To which I clung
While destiny floated
Downstream

Life became bounded
With quiet unrest
Struggle unfounded
Based on terror and lies

Til insight awakened
Worth was untapped
Permission was given
To RISE

– ©Shayla Logan 2013

Rise, part 2

20130306-210350

I learned at any earlier age that the more quiet and unobtrusive I was, the less likely I was to get noticed – and hurt. While this was a great skill for survival during childhood, it didn’t serve me well as an adult who was called to do greater things in the world. You can’t help others shine their light if you’re unwilling to shine your own. One of my favorite quotes is the one by Marianne Williamson:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us…”

I spent a LOT of time in my life, frightened of my light. Ironically, it was because I learned from the world around me that shining my light was not an ok thing to do. As I grew older and gained more insight, I observed that we are all asked not to shine our light too brightly. If you observe closely, you will see that even our stories of superheroes are about people who fly below the radar until the moment of danger. We spend a lot of time sending the message that someone shouldn’t be selfish, self-centered, self-focused, or any other word that begins with self. We all lose our sense of self as the world applauds our conformity and uniformity.

Everyone is expected to have the same goals, desires, wants, and needs. Go to school, get a job, get married, have kids, go into debt buying stuff you don’t need, live happily ever after.Because we are conditioned to believe that’s what we should all want, that’s what most of us strive for. Many who arrive either continue to stay stuck in the illusion or they realize they traveled a long way to reach that destination – and it was the wrong address.

To break out of that mold, you have to be willing to claim your originality and uniqueness, you have to be willing to release caring what others think in order to follow what you know is yours, and you have to be willing to RISE, which is a helluva lot harder to do if you’re weighted down by beliefs and baggage. Imagine for a moment, you let all that go, what would be possible?

Photo credit: Kuzeytac (will be back soon) / Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Excellence

20130302-232520.jpg

Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act but a habit.”

I write for three purposes.

1. To share my gifts and ideas with the world
2. To connect with more people than if I sat in my room by myself and just wrote in my journal
3. To become excellent at it

I have lost track of how many days I’ve done in my 30 day writing challenge and now realize it doesn’t matter. I need to keep writing anyway. Why? Because the more I do it, the better I will become. I’ve spent the last 20+ years having people tell me I need to write a book. A part of why I haven’t done it is because I’ve not yet felt the call at a deeper level and another part is because I didn’t yet consider myself a good enough writer.

But the more I write, even if it’s just this blog, the better I become. Excellence is, indeed, a habit.

What habits are you choosing to cultivate?

Photo credit: Nt2bd / Foter.com / CC BY-SA

I Hope You Dance

ballerina-17_l

Have you ever heard the Lee Ann Womack song, “I Hope You Dance”? I love the line “and when you get the choice to sit it out or dance, I hope you dance”.

I am not where I thought I would be when I started this journey. The good news is that I know where things went astray and I’m correcting them. Clarity is a beautiful thing! But all the knowledge in the world means nothing if you aren’t willing to “dance”.

I have three different friends who are stuck in their career. They’ve reached a point where they know they’re unhappy where they are, and know that they’re meant to do something more meaningful in the world, but don’t know what direction to go. Two of them have an idea of the general direction they’d like to go but refuse to take a step because it isn’t all laid out for them and they are waiting for the “perfect” thing to come along. They want that moment where the clouds part, the angels sing, and there’s a big, flashing neon sign saying “This is it right here!” Have you done this or know someone who has (is)?

What I’ve discovered, between talking to others who became entrepreneurs and viewing my own journey, is that it almost never works that way. Almost everyone I’ve met has taken a step and has either been given evidence that it was in the right direction or been course corrected. But the step itself is crucial. You can’t steer a car that isn’t moving and you can’t live a life that is standing still, waiting for all the answers to appear. You have to be willing to take the risk of stepping out into the unknown and following where you are lead from there.

Stepping outside of the norm and following your own path is possibly the most terrifying, confusing, nerve-wracking, exhilarating, worthwhile, and fulfilling thing you will ever do. When you get the choice to sit it out or dance…I hope you [find the courage to] dance.

Photo credit: Jean-François Chénier / Foter.com / CC BY-NC

Six Words

Dave Heuts / Nature Photos / CC BY-SA

“There is no failure, only feedback.”

I started NLP practitioner training today. The statement above is one of the basic beliefs of NLP.

These six little words, out of an entire body of knowledge, have the power to transform lives.

Imagine, for a moment, if you were to stop embracing the concept of failure. If every thing that didn’t go as planned was simply feedback to where you are in terms of reaching your goal.

We are taught, almost from birth, that there’s a right and a wrong, success and failure, win or lose. If, however, we were to start viewing everything as feedback, most of our fear disappears. Imagine giving yourself permission to release your fears and view things in a different light.

Just ponder that for a minute or two…then tell me what thoughts surfaced for you.

What I’m Servin’

A dish of reality, heavily seasoned with sarcasm, with a double scoop of humor on the side:

This is day 13 of not being able to hear in one ear. I can now stand up straight most of the time, I’ve stopped my frequent Linda Blair imitations, and I can almost walk a straight line without staggering but I. Can. Not. Hear.

I have broken our salt shaker and a plate by losing my balance and crashing them into things and, oh, did I mention I can’t hear in one ear?!? I’m losin’ my cool! This, I know, is the moment when I should tell myself something I would say to someone else. (This is also the moment when I think that I’m simply too positive the majority of the time and I’m probably pretty annoying to a lot of people.)

What encouraging words of wisdom would I say to someone else if they were in my shoes? Well, one thing I have clients do is follow their fears all the way through until they can’t go any further. When I do this on my own, I tend to deviate and let my imagination run wild at the same time 🙂

So… I will be half-deaf, breaking dishes, forbidden to drive, stuck eating cold foods ’cause I can’t go near the stove, and saying, “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you.” for the rest of my life, which will surely be miserable. I will lose all credence as a motivational speaker, nobody will want me to coach them because they have to yell at me to be heard – or perhaps because they caught me rocking in a corner from my deafness-induced nervous breakdown. The only job I will be able to get is as a Walmart greeter and half my teeth will all start to fall out because, somewhere in my twisted mind, there is a direct correlation between having teeth and being able to hear. (Of course, only half will fall out because my hearing loss is only in one ear so I will still be able to take beautiful photos if done from the correct angle.)

But then, because my life is doomed to be miserable due to my hearing loss, I will get fired from Walmart for smiling and nodding instead of appropriately answering the question of an irate customer, I will get addicted to moonshine because that’s the drink of choice for people who can’t hear and have only half their teeth, and I will have to sub-lease a cardboard box under the bridge. I will subsequently get evicted from the box because I’ve made it smell too much like moonshine and the other tenants are whiskey fans and I will take to sleeping on the beach. I will get eaten alive by sand crabs and die, they will get drunk from my moonshine-infused blood, overpopulate, and take over the world. The entire world will then be eaten by sand crabs and will exist no more…all because I lost hearing in one ear for 13 days.

Then I realize that sand crabs usually only eat things smaller than them so that rules me out as a food source, I’m way too difficult to live with to ever share a cardboard box, I would get addicted to vodka not moonshine, I wouldn’t lose teeth because I’m too much of a compulsive flosser, I’m overqualified for Walmart so they’d never hire me, and people will always want me to coach them because that’s like breathing to me, I’m good at it, and people want what I have – minus the deaf in one ear thing. I will now begrudgingly admit that maybe I will survive and everything will be ok. Geesh.