After some resistance, I met with my therapist again this week.

It didn’t take long for her to lovingly point out that I’d trapped myself inside of a tug of war of sorts. Two opposing approaches to life selfishly pulling me in two very separate directions. The result: anxiety induced paralysis. My brain and spirit nursed its rope burns in fearful isolation.

On One Side of the Tug of War is Presence

What does it mean to be present? I think finding/experiencing ‘presence’  means embracing life despite any self-imagined restrictions.

After attending the Voice Intensive in Toronto, I wrote a post about joy. In that post I wrote:

“There is no formula that’s going to work 100% of the time for me. I am not a math equation. I can’t predict how I’m going to feel in the future. I can’t box myself into a set identity that behaves ‘according to plan’ 100% of the time. All that I can do is feel what I’m feeling in every moment, and hope that I’ll somehow make sense as a person.”

Perhaps, in some ways the greatest enemy to presence is identity, and the rules that we’ve placed on ourselves and the way we relate to the world. I don’t think firm, unyielding, and unmodifiable identity can truly co-exist with presence. I think they clash. To be truly present is to let go of all rules of ‘self’ (insert name here), and to allow yourself to be spontaneously unpredictable. I think presence LOVES growth; LOVES change.

Astounding acts of creativity take place in presence.

Now, if only letting go of identity didn’t feel like one of the most terrifying things you can do.

It’s basically like dying. You’re basically allowing portions of who you were  in the past (mainly thought-patterns) to sort of dissolve out of your existence. And by past I mean one second ago, and beyond. It’s freaking scary… while also being a major contributor to the anxiety-induced paralysis I mentioned in the first paragraph.

And yet, I have had moments of true presence.

Almost exclusively when I’ve been in flow. I get it a lot when I write, and occasionally when I act. This ‘flow state’ (check out my post on Steven Kotler’s The Rise of Superman) feels freeing and unrestrictive. A sort of  playing/living that has more to do with joy and curiosity than anything else.

But hat sort of presence is scary because it is unpredictable. Boxing my impulses into a predictable ‘identity’ is WAY more comfortable. Fear, as much it makes me scrunch my shoulders up beside my ears, is comfortable. I know what will come as a result of fear: more of the same. And without fear? Change.

Scary as hell.

So does embracing presence mean embracing fluidity and the unpredictable irrational part of life, of self? I think it does.

So, that’s one side of the battle.

On the Other Side of the Tug of War is Destiny

This belief that there are signs out there that I must find and follow in order to end up where I’m ‘supposed’ to be. I read this quote recently:

“You can’t connect the dots looking forward you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something: your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow your heart, even when it leads you off the well worn path.” – Steve Jobs

But that word destiny is CONFUSING!! That idea of trust is infuriating, because if you’ve ever done that exercise where you had to fall back into someone’s arms with complete abandon, without buckling your knees and catching yourself, you can imagine how much harder it would be – it is – if that person was invisible, someone you, perhaps, hadn’t even met yet.

That’s trust. That’s belief. That’s all those things that keep me up at night worrying about the future, and love, and success, and how the dots will line up when I get to where I really want to be. Which is where? I don’t even know!

But I’ve become paranoid of missing a crucial plot-point in my life. I’ve become afraid of accidentally thwarting the realization of my ‘destiny’ because of something I said ‘no’ to that I should have said ‘yes’ to.

Please say that you can relate.

Because what my therapist pointed out is that although this ‘fated’ mindset sometimes has me running around like a chicken with its head cut off, while also trying to predict which dots will line up in the future that hasn’t happened yet, this belief has also contributed to a somewhat passenger style attitude. “Life will unfold as it is meant to unfold.’

If I don’t get the opportunity I sort of went after:

“No big deal. You weren’t meant to get that opportunity.”

And while I know that sort of attitude definitely has its positives, I think I’ve been using it as an excuse. Have I been passionately and deliberately (ferociously even) going after and asking for what I want? No.

Why? Because I’ve been feeling terrified of doing life wrong, and of making the wrong choice, and of living my life the wrong way.

So what’s the resolution to all of this?

Well, that’s going to take many more blog posts to figure out.

But here’s where my head is at right now. I think I need to let go of this idea of fate, and destiny, and right, and embrace this idea of true presence. This idea of giving voice and life to what I feel and what I want, regardless of how afraid I am that what I feel and want is wrong.

Speaking, for me, is very challenging. There’s a lot that I want to say, but it so often gets stuck between my heart and throat, and I so often walk around in the world with a phrase pulsating in my jaw that I never say.

I find speaking to be exceptionally scary. I find winning scary. I find living scary.

But so does everybody I think.

The other side of this is living with intention. Mercedes recommended that I turn my life into an acting exercise of sorts. She recommended that I ‘verb my life.’

Do I have you interested? I’ll be sharing what she meant by that in my next post.

*The header illustration is by Martin Vaughn-James