And a key practice that we have to cultivate in order to get unstuck—or avoid getting stuck—is to talk about our struggles and our challenges and our experience so we regain the ability to choose what happens next.
When it comes to the topic of new possibilities and getting stuck, I think the things that we need to reflect upon fall into two big categories. One category is fear, and the other is sadness, because those are the two things that take us out of the present moment.
It is in the present moment when we have clarity. We can see the whole field. We have the broadest perspective, and we can play chess when others play checkers. We know where we want to go, and we know how to get there. But when we’re worried about the past, which is sadness, or we’re concerned about the future, which is fear or anxiety, we have very little ability to see what is present right in front of us.
In order to navigate that sadness, we have to give ourselves permission to grieve what was, so we can make space for what is. Now, when it comes to the fear, that is where the work truly lies—when it comes to walking into the next version of our life.
When I think about fear, I think about four components that conspire to prevent us from seizing new possibilities.
The first is the fear of failure—our concern, our worry that we might not be able to do the things we’re trying to do. So if I was to say to you, “Here’s a new opportunity, a new career choice,” a natural tendency you may have is to worry that you’re going to get exposed—that you’re going to be shown to be a fraud in some way, that you’re not up for the task. There’s a desire to hold on to what we have for fear of what we might find out if we let go.
And in so many ways, my life and my story is a testament to this idea. For so long, I followed a path of what I thought I was supposed to do. I played a role that other people wanted me to play, and it was very, very scary—almost debilitatingly scary—for me to think about trying to do something else, to carve my own way and my own path. In order to do that, we need courage. We need clarity. We need support to make that hero’s journey into the unknown. And we also have to be willing to acknowledge that it can be scary as sh-t.
The second is fear of the unknown. The known is always going to be a more comfortable and easier thing to deal with than the unknown. My man Coach likes to talk about the idea that we have to get uncomfortable in order to get right. In order to win the day, we have to get comfortable being uncomfortable. Nobody—I don’t like it, nobody likes discomfort—but we have to find a way to befriend it and to see that it has value. This requires having faith in the future, having hope. It requires realizing that we are not the first person to ever walk this path. We are part of a long line of people who’ve walked a similar path.
The third thing is fear of isolation or exile. And again, I come back to my own story when I think about that. I grew up as an indoor Jew. I was supposed to have a profession, marry the right person, and live a life that other people could be proud of. I was supposed to live a comfortable life, one of ease. And when I realized that that wasn’t the life for me, it was scary as hell to start to make changes.
As I began to make those decisions for myself, as I began to chart a new path, to make different kinds of choices, the people in my orbit got frightened. And they started to distance themselves from me. I wasn’t filling the role and providing the value that they needed me to like I used to. And that brings up a whole lot of fear—fear of being alone, fear of being an outcast. And one of the things that I had to be able to do was to trust that in that unknown, I would find a new community, and I would find my new way.
That process was not easy. It was scary. It wasn’t simple. But if we can talk about it, we can do a lot to tamp those fears down so we can do the things we need to do. And that was true for me.
And when we get to the places we’re supposed to get to, not only do we find ourselves with a new tribe, but we find ourselves with the opportunity to re-engage with those old friends who were spooked—in new ways.
The last aspect of fear is interesting, because it’s actually fear of success. When we think about some of our childhood patterns and beliefs, one of the most prominent is the voice in our head that tells us that we’re not good enough. We’re not deserving. We’re not worthy. We’re not valuable. We’re not competent. We’re not capable.
Those are the sorts of things and beliefs that we internalize. We may hear them in our childhood from different people—parents, teachers, somebody else. And with those beliefs lurking deep down, we are apt to sabotage our own success—in a way, acting out this idea that we’re not worthy of the success that we have. And we see examples of this time and again, where people do things in marriages or in jobs because they’re almost trying to demonstrate that they’re not worthy of the role that they found themselves in.
The antidote to these things is to dig deeply, to reflect on those patterns and beliefs, and to be able to talk about the moments when we don’t feel up to the challenge, when we don’t feel deserving of good things. Then we can make the unconscious conscious, and we can make peace with those dragons.
The other side of that coin, when it comes to disclosure and new possibilities, is sadness. And certainly, I think the best example of this is transition.
In so many ways, there’s this notion that when you are transitioning out of anything or experiencing the end of an era—from military service to a marriage—there’s a mourning period where you’re mourning the person that you used to be. And when you’re able to make peace with that, when you’re able to recognize that what was can no longer be, and you do that properly, you have the opportunity to begin to move forward into whatever is supposed to happen next.
When you’re wishing you were still in the military or working as a first responder, when you’re wishing you were still in that relationship, you’re wishing you were still in that job, when you’re living in Once Upon a Time land—it is very difficult to seize, and even more importantly, to identify, new possibilities.
And that’s the role that our past can often play in inhibiting our future. Joseph Campbell likes to talk about when we struggle, we’re often staring at our past with our back to the future. Our goal is to help you turn around so you can be where your feet are—in the present—having made peace with your past, and start to chart that new path.
And that’s what posttraumatic growth is all about. It’s about taking what happened in the past—good, bad, and ugly—and understanding it and interpreting it in a way that helps you continue to walk forward into a new story. A story that defines you. A story that helps explain where you’re going, why you’re going there, and who’s going to be with you as your ride-or-die crew.
Because of course, our hope for you is that you are able to live a life that’s constantly filled with new possibilities.
And that reminds me of another Joseph Campbell quote, which is the idea that hell is life drying up. We are meant to evolve and to grow and to change—and to use discomfort and new possibilities as catalysts to have the life that is destined for us.
And that means we are constantly changing. And that means we are constantly provided with the opportunity to spot and seize new possibilities.
So, as you reflect on this concept of disclosure and new possibilities, I want you to reflect on three questions:
What causes you to struggle when it comes to spotting and seizing new possibilities?
What do you need to do to overcome those obstacles in terms of resources—things outside of yourself—and resourcefulness—things inside of you?
And third, what do you need to do to be able to successfully spot and seize new possibilities?
They’re waiting for you.