Your inner voice has one job. Don't argue with it.

If this were my therapist, I would
probably leave a lot of stuff out.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about grief and a little about therapy. 

I had planned to write more today on the therapy subject - from deciding to go, to finding a therapist whose photo doesn't look, as a friend put it,  "like a depressing selfie they took on the subway," to organizing a chronology of your life before visit #1 that isn't a fifty pound book. But, I think it needs another week or so in the blog oven. 

So, here are the last of my thoughts on grief for a while. 

Grief is about what has been taken away, of course. But as time passes, I am understanding the things that grief brings back-to-life-back-to-reality, as well. Because, ask around. Life, after a loss, can take on a carpe diem, now or never feeling.   

In that spirit, today's post is dedicated to anyone who, for whatever the reason has found themselves wishing to shake things up; shrink the distance between themselves and others, grow the confidence to ask for something better, and check behind the couch of what they're used to, just in case there are some old dreams still lying around back there.

Some thoughts:

Here is the thing about reaching out.

There is a risk. 

There is a risk that you won't be welcome, or liked, or respected. Risk that you'll be sorry you tried, or will say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Risk that you will want, more than you are wanted.

There is a risk that you'll seem needy before you remember that we are all needy. Every one of us. 

There is a risk that people will be surprised by your flaws after you stop trying to be perfect, before you realize you are more likable, overnight, because of them. 

Here is the thing about confidence. 

You don't get it, or find it, or dig deep and pull it out of some special "will" pocket. 

You earn it by leveraging the things about you that are true – your bravery, smarts, humor, honesty - and letting go of the things you affect. 

You earn it when you feel you must try, more than you must succeed, so that when only that is done, you have have indeed, succeeded.

You earn it when, after you do succeed,  do win, do understand that you did have it in you, you're left with a unique desire to face uncertainty again.

Here is the thing about dream-chasing.

A dream is not something you think up in traffic or while you're on hold. Dreams steep. Dreams pounce. 

But dreams must be felt, before they can be chased. 

Dreams you feel when, you realize you can survive a break up with your old self and be happier with the new one you build.

Dreams you feel when, you consider that the best of what you've known might pale in comparison to what you decide to know now.

Dreams you feel when, a vision does not feel flighty or whimsical, but like information.

Dreams you feel when, you know that someday, you will look back on now as the time before you decided and then acted on what will be a thing you can't imagine being without. 

Risk is so uncomfortable, it makes us accept distance.
Believing in what we deserve is so uncomfortable, it makes us accept less than we really want.
Change is so uncomfortable, it makes us accept wishing over acting. 

Screw distance.

Screw mediocre.

Screw complacency.

Everyone has an inner voice, a gut feeling, an instinct. 

It only has one job, which is to help you live your only life.

Don't argue with it.