My Little List of Fears

The last post ended with a foreshadowing of lurking fears soon to violently rear their monstrous heads and do some wicked damage. You may have picked up on some of this underlying fear from my brief discussion about my growing plan and how it seems to be setting myself up for success, not just my herbs. Up until then, it may have seemed like a brazen optimism was fueling this project, with not an inkling of doubt or pessimism present. While overall, I am extremely optimistic, I would be fooling myself if I were not to admit that a subtle fear does exist within my consciousness as I continue down my herb-growing path. What exactly do I fear? Here's the list:

1. Failure. I am afraid that my plants will not thrive, and I will not be able to harvest anything.
2. Not Following Through. I am afraid that I will do all of this planning, and then won't follow through with the actual planting and growing.
3. Hating It. While not likely, I am a little bit afraid that I won't actually like growing herbs once I start doing it.

Cognizant of these fears from the beginning--especially the fear of failure--I resolved to not let them dissuade me from undertaking this project, nor to let them tarnish my otherwise hopeful outlook. In fact, one of the reasons I was able to move forward at all was because I decided to allow myself the opportunity of failure and doing something for the sheer enjoyment of it--the process--not for an expected or desired outcome. Yes, I do have certain goals for this project, certain plans for the herbs that I grow; but this project is equally about challenging myself in a completely new and different way.

It was helpful to list these fears out, to fess up in a way, instead of brushing them off or just letting them slink around in my swampy unconsciousness, ignes fatui of sorts, where, unchecked, they could have potentially morphed and mutated into something of real substance, rather than remain mere innocuous flashes of apprehension. Sometimes we may think that by acknowledging our fears, we breathe life into them as oxygen to a flame, but oftentimes it is quite the opposite: when we place our fears into the open air of consciousness, we give ourselves the chance to view them, contend with them, and then gracefully allow them be carried off with the next passing wind (or the one after that, depending on how deeply entrenched our fear is). Afterward, we are blissfully weightless in our liberation, perfect in our freedom, and whole in our abilities to fully engage in the life we have been given.