2020 was an unescapable year of change for the whole world. Like you, I did not (consciously) ask for what transpired. And like you, I hung on for dear life, not knowing where and when the rollercoaster would end.

And then it didn’t.

And hasn’t.

And may not, at least for a (short or long) while.

And…now I’m OK with that.

More than OK, turns out. In fact, after doing a postmortem of the year via my annual mini-retreat practice, I’m grateful because 2020 was exactly what I needed (even though I didn’t know it at the time).

2020’s exact dose of existential uncertainty, discomfort, and fear mobilized me to move beyond what I knew (or thought I knew) and reach for something better, something more.

What I didn’t expect at the time was what I was really reaching for: a better version of me.

Becoming that better me has exponentially improved everything: how I show up for myself, my clients, my relationship, my family, and my community.

So what was the key?

Learning to let go of control, and trust.

There was no better teacher than 2020 to demonstrate that control is an illusion.

At the start of the pandemic, I was existentially uncomfortable. It felt like very little was in my control. I was locked inside, peering at a screen and observing what was unfolding across the world. I saw and felt others’ fear and how it manifested.

Because I know I do have control of my thoughts, words, and actions, I decided to experiment. I committed to noticing when I tended toward control, so I could confront and heal that part of myself.

I knew I was feeling what others were feeling, too. Otherwise, shortages would not have been a thing.

Shortly into this exercise, examining my thoughts, emotions, and actions, and those of others, it became clear:

I need to control because I feel out of control.

I control because I fear something bad will happen. And because I may not know how to respond to it. And because I may not be prepared to respond.

Control is simply a coping mechanism to manage fear.

To heal my reliance on control to manage fear, I’d need to tackle what was behind it: fear.

So what was the nature of my fear?

Mostly, lack and health.

What if I or someone close to me got sick?
What if I or someone close to me died?
How will all of this impact my clients? My community?
What will that mean for me?
What will it mean for all of us financially?
When is it going to end?
When can we resume our normal lives?

Uncertainty, uncertainty, uncertainty.

We fear because there are things that are important to us, that we want to protect, or because of experiences that we want to avoid or forget.

I’ve noticed that people have a way of responding to stress. When they’re experiencing the particularly special stress of the unknown, they tend to double down on this style.

For the angry stress relators, they double down on that. The anxious, the same. The fearful, optimistic, self-protective, compassionate, mean, martyr, scapegoater, the same.

That makes sense…it’s not like many of us had direct personal experiences to draw on in coping with this new situation, these new fears.

As an occupational hazard of working in the realm of creativity and facilitation, however, I dive into uncertainty every day, and I’m tasked with bringing others along into it, too. It dawned on me that I was uniquely positioned to meet this new-unknown-reality with well-worn skills: welcoming and playing with the unknown.

What if, instead of letting fear take hold of me, I dove headfirst into it?

What if, instead of seeking control, I surrendered?

Here are the six steps I took to overcome my fear. You are welcome to try them out for yourself.

1. I turned my meditation practice toward fear. I learned to notice it, to acknowledge it, and sit with the discomfort of it, and allow it, without needing it or the situation around me to change.

2. I looked at the value of my fear. Sometimes I even welcomed it and blessed it, for showing me, reminding me, what is important. I gave thanks for it.

3. I challenged myself. I asked myself questions such as,

What’s really the worst that can happen?
How likely is it to happen?
What evidence do I have that this will happen?
Is there anything I can think, say, or do, that will diminish those odds?
What would happen if I trusted that things can and will work out, even if I have no evidence to that effect?

4. I examined how I might look at the story I’d been telling myself about how and why I felt fearful, from other perspectives, so I could better understand it and create new stories. I recognized that, although my ego might disagree, I really don’t have the whole picture, and might have missed the true aerial view of what was happening.

This was a type of devil’s-advocate work in reverse, where I poked holes in my negative logic and feelings, so I could see other possibilities, such as, why couldn’t this be the best blessing-in-disguise of my life/of our collective experience on earth, that we are fortunate to experience in this lifetime?. These new stories, particularly when I practiced them, helped me feel better.

5. Based on this, I created a tool to help myself and others understand and respond to their fear in a constructive way:

© Cultured Innovations 2021, all rights reserved. Click on the image to download and use the tool.

6. I learned to soothe myself. For each of my fears, I scanned my memory for evidence of its resolution. I gathered this evidence so I could remember specific instances when the last time I’d had each fear, things had worked out for me OK, if not pretty well or better than expected. I documented this evidence and gathered it into a wellbeing journal. When I felt anxious or the fears came on full-on, this journal served as a counterpoint, a reminder, and a resource to turn to. After a while, I didn’t need the journal anymore. I was able to shift my energy on my own, and then, with practice, to do it quickly.

I worked through these steps (not all at once, but intuitively) until I could move past being triggered, maintaining my energy level to sit with, then notice and examine what was really behind the fears. What I could see only from that other-side perspective was that many of my fears were not about health and safety, but were rooted in more deeply-embedded, false beliefs around the nature of failure, money, and lack.

At a certain point in the process of accepting and welcoming fear, things shifted. It diminished. The clouds cleared. I felt better, and very different.

By embracing fear and working through it, I’d begun to reverse deeper beliefs that I hadn’t noticed were limiting my full potential. Only after this process could I now observe this about myself, not in anger or disappointment, but in full presence and compassion with myself.

I saw that fear was an aspect of my little-self, keeping me safe and protected, but ultimately keeping me small, too. It was a hindrance to my self-worth and my abundance. Fear was a hindrance to any greatness I might have to contribute to the world. My fear was about me, not about what I’m here to do that could go far beyond myself and contribute to the greater good.

For the first time, I could see how I had been suffering at the expense of my fears, and how these had also limited my own ability to be full, and to share my fullness, beauty, and abundance with others and the world.

This is perhaps the most important work I’ve done yet in life. It has profoundly impacted how I show up for myself, my clients, and everyone else in my life.

Thank you, 2020. I’m forever grateful for how you helped me and everyone I reach.