“Who Are You, Really?” Finding an Identity Beyond Anxious Mind Chatter
The idea there could be something truer about me
than the jumble of doubts, fears and insecurities
is enough to have me convulsing
it means every decision I’ve ever made
the life I’ve been leading
is built on…
what, exactly?
I wake up from a dream-disturbed sleep. As I climb out of bed, the conversations and stories that have been playing out in my head all night carry on. I’m glued to their drama like a prisoner with an oculus strapped to their face.
The money from my book hasn’t come in yet, and I have $7 in my bank account until tomorrow. I have writers’ group (a cherished routine), but suddenly, the opportunity to inspire and connect feels like a mantle I’m not strong enough to carry; a chance to fuck up and be exposed.
Focused on what life is withholding from me; all I can see is what I don’t have.
I wander around the house in a daze, getting dressed and pulling from my toolkit. What usually helps when I’m feeling like this?
Finally, I sit on my bed, in front of the mirror and look myself in the eyes.
I breathe and feel for the light in my heart.
“Okay honey, I hear you. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but people love you. You are enough. You have enough. It’s time to engage with the world and let yourself be seen. Let’s go.”
When I was little, I sensed I was here to make an impact, but the world told me success was a product of struggle. To keep up, I sacrificed my wellbeing and over-gave my energy in an attempt to both fit in and stand out.
I wasn’t strong enough in myself to trust my own voice above the world, so I relied on others to tell me who I was and how to be.
One of the beliefs little me created was, ‘if I don’t do everything perfectly, I’ll be exposed’.
I tied myself in knots of self-surveillance, trying to keep up with all the “rules”.
I disconnected from my body's natural rhythms and the wise, kind guidance of my heart and consulted only my mind. I began shooting through life like a pinball, driven from one thing to the next by my thoughts. Eventually, the anxious chatter became so loud, I thought it was all I was.
The mind is an incredible tool for processing, but if we live there, we miss so much.
In the process of publishing Holy F*ck, the head noise was loud. It became clear I’d need to access my deeper knowing if I wanted to make it across the finish line with my sanity intact.
I sought support in the form of a tarot reading.
“The part of you that doubts is not your enemy. It’s a younger part of you that learned to anticipate judgement. She doesn’t need to be fought; she needs to be held and re-trained.” Medium Marya
In the past, I’ve used a more masculine approach to access a “me” beyond my mind. I’d push myself outside my comfort zone by hitch hiking, talk to strangers and practicing radical honesty, relishing the ecstasy it created.
Now, the jailbreak is a little softer.
I notice the looping thoughts and sensations in my body as my mind tries to find solid ground. I direct a wave of compassion to the mind; tenderly recognizing how much it suffers and how hard it must be to be on high alert all the time (daily meditation helps).
I call to mind any stressors that could be contributing to mental overload.
I sit with feelings and sensations like hopelessness and apathy and journal until I break through to the deeper pain (usually, fear of abandonment and loss). I let it move.
I write a gratitude list and shift my focus to what’s positive and present. I include qualities I like and respect about myself.
I read through old letters, birthday cards and testimonials from clients. I let their feedback land in my being, like rain soaking the earth.
I add gut-loving foods to my diet. (According to my naturopath, leaky gut can mess with neurotransmitters, making it more chaotic than usual in the mind).
I channel anxious energy into people and projects that are deeply meaningful (like writing this blog post).
All this is made easier by the fact I’m not on social media (except to post). Social media gives the mind endless content that often re-enforces its fear.
The language of my body is deep
I have to approach her slowly
spend time with her
before she’ll talk to me
it usually takes an hour
of massaging her intently
and listening to slow music
while I’m breathing
before I can hear anything
breaking free
is a process of allowing myself to ask:
isn’t there more to this? to me?
and learning to act on the basis of my inner knowing
rather than social programming
Is it getting easier?
Yes. Nowadays, it’s easier to notice when devotion is turning into obsession, and consistent practice is becoming panicked striving. I come back to my inherent worth and let the joy of my heart grow through the jumble of thoughts in my mind.
It can feel a bit tedious sometimes, holding space for the small parts of myself, but I know I’m making progress. The other day I felt my old self scream in fear. I held space for her and listened as it turned into laughter. She knows she can bring up whatever she needs, and I won’t run.
I walk out the door, beaming. I can’t help but notice the eyes that flicker towards me. I embrace my comrades in art and bond over our shared struggles and celebrate our wins. I feel deeply grateful for my ability to attune to the people and the environment around me.
The ability to observe my mind without believing it is one of my most cherished skills (a skill I’ve acquired and definitely wasn’t born with).
My real self is enamored with the natural beauty of life: the bubbles in sparkling water, the jovial gate of a dog, how the wind plays with a child’s hair. These things fill her. They don’t require anything of her. They’re just waiting for her to notice.
If I could say anything to the me letting her mind guide her life, I’d say…
You are not the voices in your head. You are the Soul, listening to those voices. I know it’s scary, but don’t waste time trying to neutralize the fear by performing mental compulsions. They’re old, outdated programs and there’s no truth in them. You don’t need them anymore. Use that anxious energy to do things that remind you of your worth.
You’ve got this.
Jae x
