Slowly, I’m learning to trust.
And to let go of that exhausting, fear-based need to control everything.
This illusion of control has been my default setting for decades.
A coping mechanism. That, and building high walls around me.
But lately, I’ve been working through my fears.
And as always, when I confront my inner demons, things become clearer.
Just last week, during meditation, I suddenly saw how much of my energy is consumed by scanning for danger: people, situations, anything.
It looked like black clouds were covering my vision, only leaving room to see one small sliver of what’s ahead, the thing I’m working towards.
It felt like I was slogging through a thick mist toward that beam of light.
No wonder I feel tired. Like I’m not getting anywhere, despite all the hours, all the effort.
I’ve never realised how draining fear really is.
Not the loud kind, but the quiet kind that simmers beneath the surface: doom scenarios, worst-case thinking, worry, over analysing.
Maybe you know that feeling, too.
That hum of chronic, low-level anxiety that’s always running in the background, even on “normal” days.
Most days you can’t even hear it, but it takes up so much space.
And sometimes it screams at you, when a specific button is pushed.
For me, that’s my cats. They’re my babies. And when it comes to their safety, my whole system goes on high alert.
A door left open? Panic.
An owl landing on the fence? Time to google “do owls eat cats?”
I go into overdrive.
It’s not rational.
It’s my nervous system on autopilot, trying to create emotional safety the only way it knows how. And it’s been like that for years.
But here’s the thing: it does get better. By becoming aware of what’s happening. By feeling the actual fears, the fear response in my body, instead of pushing them away. By releasing their hold over me.
And because it’s getting better, I can now see just how much of my life has been shaped by this state of constant alert. By this habit of expecting danger, even when everything’s okay.
So now I wonder…
What would life look like if I didn’t waste all that energy on what-ifs or over reacting?
How much lighter would it feel if I could stop preparing for disaster… and start trusting what’s actually happening? And that life happens for me, not against me?
I have a lot of energy.
And I want to use it well.
Not to scan for trouble. But to build, create, and live with joy. To walk surrounded by light with clear eyes and an open heart.
After all, the door opened.
I was nearby.
They didn’t even notice. End of.
Maybe that’s the real shift: not perfect safety. But a quieter knowing that all is well, right now.
Maybe trust isn’t a leap.
Maybe it’s just a softer place to live in.
P.S. This piece is part of a new collage collection I’ve been working on. I’m not quite ready to shout about it yet, but it’s coming.
If you’d like a little heads-up when it’s ready (and a nice 15% off), just pop your name on this list. I’ll make sure you get the sneak peek before anyone else.