Reflections on Fear: Four Years Down the Road

Four years ago today, I left the corporate world. For those of you who have known me for a shorter period than that and can’t imagine me rocking a BlackBerry and business suite, it is true – I spent nearly nine years working in consulting, from the time I left college onward. If you’d asked me four years ago where I would be today, I could never have imagined I’d be living the life I am living. Even though I am very much doing all the things I dreamed of doing when I made the big decision to leave, at that time my mind would always default to the worst case scenario. My biggest fears as I prepared to leave were always around finances. In my mind, I was going to blow-through the nice nest egg I had diligently worked to save during my final years of corporate work, and within a few years, would be on my knees, begging my former employer to take me back.

I can remember many mornings both before and shortly after I quit, when I would wake up, paralyzed with fear as this scenario played through my head, over and over again. Laying there, I would spend hours composing my future plea to my former boss. And if it wasn’t that, I was calculating exactly at what point I’d have to drain my 401(k), trying to imagine how many months I could not pay rent before getting evicted, and how awful I would feel if I had to call my father and tell him I was going to move into his spare room.

Thankfully, none of these things have happened. Or anything even remotely close.

Had someone interrupted me and told me the many things I would have accomplished professionally since I made that fateful decision to join the ranks of the self-employed, my little mind would have been blown.

Had I been told that not only would I not blow through my savings account (and various retirement funds), I would actually contribute to them, I would have laughed.

If someone had told me I would be a certified life coach and guiding people to do exactly what I did (i.e., quit the jobs they dislike), I would have asked you how I would have possibly have had the time and/or funds to make that happen.

One of my worst fears when I quit was the notion that my passport might not see action for years. Had you told me then I would have visited over a dozen countries in the time since I quit, I don’t think I could even have held space for such a seemingly luxurious notion.

As you can see by now, I was basically a big ball of fear as October 26, 2011 approached.

And still, I did it. I quit. I had faith that despite the worst-case scenarios spun to me by my lower chakras, thousands of years of accumulated survival instincts in my DNA, and all the really annoying parts of my mind, I could somehow get by.

And I did. One day at a time. And I worked hard, and there were months I dipped into my savings to cover my rent. I won’t tell you it was easy. But it certainly has been rewarding.

One of the greatest things I’ve learned in my journey from corporate girl to living the life I love, is that you have to learn to skillfully co-exist with your fear. I’m all for burning through fears and letting them go, but my experience has been that’s way easier said than done. And the thing about fears is that just when you think you’ve finally released one, it has this really nasty habit of showing up again (usually first thing the next morning, if you’re me). 

A powerful tool that really got me through the months leading up to my resignation came out of a conversation with a good friend, who also left a day-job the same year as me. She offered the metaphor that fear is like that annoying relative you don’t really care for but who has a regular habit of coming to visit. You can’t turn your relative away, but you also don’t have to spend of your time with that person. It’s exactly the same with fear – you can’t just eradicate it at will, but you also don’t have to be engulfed by it.

At a recent retreat, there was a little deck of inspirational cards on a shelf in my room. The first night, I drew one that contained this quote by Dorothy Thompson: "Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live." From the second I first read it, I found myself passionately disagreeing.

We come alive not when we are free of fear. We are truly alive when we can see the fear, look it directly in the eye, and not be controlled by it. The more we recognize fear and name it, the closer we become to no longer being afraid, to being more fully alive. We can still live fully and richly, even in the shadow of fear. Fear can be a great teacher.

This doesn’t mean we should live paralyzed by our fears. There must be conscious action to accompany them to begin to dissolve them, slowly. For me, my meditation and journaling practices allowed me to see my fears, and to also see the bigger perspective that they were only some of many, many possible outcomes.

The opposite of fearful is not fearless, it is faithful. Had I waited to quit my job until I felt absolutely no fear, I’d still be doing the same thing I did four year ago, and probably would be doing it for the rest of my life. I had to wake up each day to my fear, but to know other paths were available to me. Fear is just one of the many, many options in the choose-your-own-adventure game of life, and just inconveniently tends to be the one our minds default to, thanks to many years of evolution.

One of my favorite fear-alleviating strategies is to name at least three alternative paths to whatever fear I am working with, which just snaps me out of the fear long enough to remember it's not my destiny. Lots of other outcomes are possible, even if they feel out of reach in the moment. Doing this as a written exercise is particularly nice, as you then pull out the list to read when the fear resurfaces (or add to it!)

I’m sharing this story because I know I am always inspired when I hear about people busting through their fears. And because I want to ask you if there’s something you’re not doing because fear has the best of you.  I hope you’ll move forward, have faith and wait not another moment to be more fully alive.

Coming Full Circle

This week, I am reminded of how I ended up with this once-upon-a-time-fairy-tale kind of life that I now find myself living. Spending a week cooking for an exquisite women’s retreat helped me to reflect how my intentions have come full circle, and how the seed for this whole business began. 

My first retreat experience ever was about a decade ago, when on a whim I attended a women’s retreat that I learned of rather serendipitously. That first gathering was magical in so many ways – the deep connection of sisterhood, the outdoor shower under the stars, the towering redwoods that held space for us. Every aspect of the retreat was so perfect, except one – the food. It was tragic to me that in a setting where so much attention had been dedicated to the schedule and execution of events, food was seemingly considered an afterthought. With no dedicated chef present, the retreat assistants would scurry into the kitchen between activities and heat up an array of packaged Trader Joe’s foods that were uninspiring and in no way contributing to the transformational work that was unfolding that week. Dinners of pasta with canned sauce and iceberg lettuce salad were a total bummer after deep heart-bursting sharings each afternoon.

My practice at that retreat became one of gratitude, learning to accept each meal without judgment or expectation. I can’t say I always succeeded. At the end of the retreat, I provided feedback to the organizers about the quality of the food and how it seemed to me that meals were a missed opportunity to foster the inner blooming that was taking place in our circle.

Two months following that retreat, I made the leap to ditch my sociology PhD program, with nothing more than a vague intention to somehow dedicate my livelihood to something to do with food and yoga.

Within a few weeks, I’d met someone in need of a chef for day retreats in Sonoma County. As soon as I heard the word retreat, I remember a big inner resounding YES pulsating through every cell of my being. From the first humble retreat lunch I prepared, to the multi-day extravaganzas I’ve been part of in all corners of the world, nothing excites me more and lets me feel more purposeful than providing food to support inner transformation.

Showing up to a retreat, no matter the theme or setting, is always an act of courage.  It’s normal for retreatants to arrive with at least some degree of anxiety or uncertainty. The quality of a meal can help ground participants, help them to feel safe and like they’ve fully arrived. Each meal at a retreat is an opportunity to support the deeper transformative process that is unfolding on the mat or in circle. I am forever grateful for the science of Ayurveda and her wisdom, which empowers me to create menus that nurture retreat participants both physically and more subtly.

I am blessed that so many groups each year trust me to provide the gift of nourishment for them, and contribute to the their collective transformation in this way.

This evening, someone asked me if I ever get tired of hearing how much my food is appreciated. I had to say no, because every compliment is a reminder that I am living my purpose, in action.

I’m grateful to the women of Wild Roots Sacred Wings for holding the space for me to remember how I got here, and to feel my purpose perfectly fulfilled. Thank you for letting me nourish you – you nourished me on so many levels as well. <3

Your Mind is Like A Smoke Alarm

This morning I awoke to prepare breakfast at a retreat center, and was surprised by how many people were up at 6 a.m.  As it turns out, one of the smoke alarms was chirping, giving most people in the house an early wake-up call. The alarm became a topic of conversation as retreatants sipped their morning tea and coffee. They were clearly annoyed and disappointed in being robbed of a precious opportunity to sleep in a little before 7 a.m. meditation.

As I listened to the conversations, I had the thought that our minds are a lot like smoke alarms. As humans, we often are consumed by repetitive thoughts, many of which are unproductive and often self-critical, and can become annoyances in our daily lives, slowing us down in our creative processes and self-growth. Yet, many of us keep listening to them, again and again, which is akin to letting a smoke alarm chirp for hours or days upon end.

I think some of it comes down to a belief that our thoughts are out of our control. Meditation, mindfulness practice and self-inquiry teach us there is another way. Being able to identify a thought that doesn’t serve us, and proactively taking steps to quiet it – whether through deep breathing, walking meditation, or other techniques – is like taking the time and effort to change the smoke alarm battery.

Trying to quiet our minds by giving in to cravings, addictions or unconscious habits is like the makeshift solutions we try when the smoke alarm is sounding – jiggling it around, pushing various buttons – which might offer some short-term quietude, but ultimately the noise starts back up. Some of us disconnect the alarm or remove the old batteries to get the sound to stop, but then the alarm doesn’t provide any function. This is likely completely numbing out our mind so that we enter a stupor, unable to tend to our life demands.

When you notice a repetitive thought, let it be a wake up call, a call to action. Find techniques that work, and change the batteries in your mind. If you were to put new batteries in your smoke alarm and it kept chirping, you would assume a battery was bad and try another one. If the same thoughts return, change the battery again, maybe trying another technique that you know has the power to bring you to a calm place.

 And just like smoke alarms require maintenance (we’re told to check them every couple months), find routine practices you can do – daily or weekly – that cultivate the same sense of peace in your mind.  In the same way you’re unlikely to ever hear the low-battery signal in your smoke alarm if you’ve changed the batteries regularly, a regular meditation or mindfulness practice helps to eliminate the repetitive thought cycles we get caught up in.

Unlike so many things that are beyond our control – traffic, other people’s reactions and so on, thankfully both smoke alarms and our minds can be tamed with ease. Be grateful the ability to quiet your mind is just a breath away – no ladders needed. 

The Best Meals Begin With...

If you answered great ingredients, you are technically correct, and I'll admit I asked that as a bit of a trick question. The answer I'm going for today is a great shopping list. And since a great list will get you great ingredients, it's easy to see how the two go hand in hand.

When I talk to people about cooking, whether informally or in cooking classes or other events I lead, I overwhelmingly find that a good majority of people I encounter hate grocery shopping. Hate might even be putting it mildly...for many, the thought of shopping inspires full-on dread. When I press people to look at their feelings toward grocery shopping, I commonly hear that people find themselves ending up in the store with no idea what to buy, walking in circles, and then getting home to find they are a few items short of a good meal. Hence, where the list comes in.

Anyone can make a shopping list. Whether scrawled on a post-it note or the back of a junk mail envelope, or typed into a new-fangled shopping list app, many of us have trained ourselves to compose lists and stick to them. But if you really want to make your shopping experience as smooth and breezy as possible, it's essential to make a great list.

And what make a great list? A great shopping list is not only complete but it is also organized. I am a queen of good lists, thanks to a smattering of Virgo in my astrological chart. I perpetually get stopped by strangers in our local food co-op who stop to admire my lists. Sometimes they engage me to ask about them and remark about my penmanship, but more often, I catch them sneaking furtive glances as they pass by my unattended cart while I'm off grabbing something down the aisle.   

When you make a great list, you separate out the page into different sections, by type of item (this system works best on paper I've found, although you could do it digitally if you're so inspired). Doing this saves you minutes, maybe even hours of your life over time, by preventing you from having to traipse clear across the store after completing your produce gathering, when you find you've forgotten to get carrots because they were buried in the middle of a list of spices and dry goods. 

To keep things simple and instill a routine, it helps to put the same categories of items in the same place each time. For example, in my own lists, I divide the page into two columns, and the left hand side of the page is always for produce. In the right-hand column, I put bulk food items in the upper quadrant, followed by dry packaged goods, with bulk spices occupying a tiny bit of real estate at the very bottom. 

To make your list work for you, include sections that are relevant to you - this might include frozen foods, health/beauty aisle items, dairy, meat/fish, etc. 

If you shop at multiple stores, say a farmers market or Costco as well as a conventional grocery store, make a list for each place to avoid overlooking anything. Keep your list in the kitchen and add to it between shopping trips. It can be tempting to just "remember" items and not actually write them down, but trust me - put them on your list. There is nothing like that moment when you walk through the door after a shopping trip and remember that you're forgotten that one key ingredient you have sworn to "remember."

Be diligent about keeping a list, and rhen you arrive at the store, you'll breeze through the sections. People who've adopted this system have reported spending significantly less time at the store than previously.

Best of all, if you stick to your list, you'll avoid coming home with excess snack foods, or more food than you actually need. A great list requires a bit of foresight, but if you take the time to plan out a couple meals, you'll save yourself from those moments of paralysis later in the week when dinnertime approaches and you have no idea what to make.

Have a try at making a great list, and let me know how it goes. I'd also love to hear your own list-making tips!