When to raise your hands (and just enjoy the ride)

It was 8 months ago when I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and jumped. Either I would fly or fall, but I had to try.

Last week, a friend asked me how the new business was going. I had to be honest. I wasn’t sure.

I’m having more fun than ever before. I feel free, full of life and have a deep knowing that I’m finally fulfilling my purpose. I feel as though I’m flying.

But I also worry that I’m doing it all wrong. I worry that I’m not making the right decisions. I get caught up in the details. Am I sending too many emails or not enough? Am I teaching the right classes? Targeting the right audience? Using the right words? I feel as though I’m falling.

As a control freak and perfectionist, it’s easy for me to be my own worst critic. During these times, I can become anxious and scared. And that’s where I was last week.

My friend gently suggested that perhaps instead of “white-knuckling” it, I just let go and enjoy the ride. She shared with me a painting that she has hanging in her home office, which reads:

“If you hold on to the handle, it’s easier to maintain the illusion of control. But it’s more fun if you just let the wind carry you.”

I immediately imagined the way I used to experience roller coasters.

I always loved roller coasters but would have a sense of trepidation as soon as I got on one. To control my fear, I would hold on tightly to the safety bar thinking that I was somehow protecting myself. The truth is it actually increased my sense of panic and anxiety.

When I finally got up the nerve to raise my hands in the air, my face naturally changed shape. Instead of closing my eyes and screaming, my eyes were wide open and I had a huge smile plastered across my face. Instead of feeling sheer terror, I felt the sensation and exhilaration of flying. Instead of fighting gravity, I just went with it.

In life and business, I sometimes hold on too tightly because I think it gives me control. But that’s just an illusion. I have absolutely no control over anything but my attitude. I can create anxiety and panic by white-knuckling it or I can say, screw it, I’m raising my hands and enjoying the ride.

If you see me and sense that I’ve reverted back to gripping the safety bar, you have permission to tell me to let loose, raise my hands and feel the rush of the wind through my hair.

I much prefer to live my life that way. I just forget sometimes.

Now I really want to visit a theme park! Who wants to join me?

With love,
Heather