Two Deaths

When I look in my heart I see two very strong, very distinct, and very contradictory drives.

I believe that I have something unique to say to the world.

And yet I am afraid that in saying that thing, I will be laughed at or rejected, or maybe worst of all, ignored.

Our life, it seems, is played out on this edge. We are afraid of the very things we feel driven to do. We want to stand up and declare our passions and beliefs. To let people know what we feel most deeply.

We each know that in our hearts is a unique expression that will come out, that must, in fact come out, that will be our very death if it does not come out, and yet we are scared, terrified even, of that moment when it does. We convince ourselves that we have to be prepared for it. We can look for another degree, or more money in the bank, or more credibility, before we let ourselves do what we want to do, or what we feel we are meant to do. We do everything we can to delay that moment. Because that moment is in fact a death of another sort. It is a death of our own limitations.

That moment when we stand naked in front of the world, when we are no longer hiding behind our careers or our companies or our pay stubs. When no slogan or vision statement will save us. When it is just one person saying "this is what I believe."

That moment that both must and must not happen. It feels daunting. Like it is a culmination of everything we are working for. Like it is the final exam of a lifetime process.

But what if that moment is not the ending, but the beginning? What if that moment is right now? What if each day we can find a new, more personal truth to share? What are our limitations then?

Jeff