So, I am a human being. As a human, I struggle with things constantly in my day-to-day life. Some of it is with things like motivation, self-control or trying not to be a catty old hag when I first wake up in the morning, but there is one thing that I believe we all struggle with, every last one of us. That thing is fear.
As mentioned in one of my earlier blog posts, I am a Christian and, at the risk of sounding crazy, I believe God spoke to me many years ago about leading worship and about stepping out and doing music things regularly. For many years, I quite deliberately ran from this. Why? Because I was scared. Because I allowed fear to control me, and I chose to compare myself to others all the time. Constantly. I sat and compared myself with people who had been playing for years, people who were professionals, even, when an old acquaintance gained considerable fame, people who were performing in front of thousands regularly. Was this a realistic thing to do? No. But does fear make you behave irrationally? Yes, I believe it does. However, I also believe that we have control over how much we allow fear to infiltrate into our lives. Sadly, I handed over the reigns to music in my life for years. I was driven by fear.
Just over a year ago, I joined a wonderful home group in my church, which is filled to the brim with people I admire, respect and love. They are so utterly non-judgmental and so supportive that I started to feel like I could maybe, possibly, consider thinking about potentially... leading. I've been singing for years. When it comes to my voice, I can sing in front of a few hundred people and go on stage without a trembling hand or a knocking knee in sight. It's when you put my guitar in my hand that I panic. The small of my back starts to produce so much sweat that it is akin to the Victoria Falls, and my hands are not far behind, making sure I slip my way up the fret board as I tremble and agonisingly wish I was elsewhere. But I'm not. I am here. I am now.
The mistake we so often make with fear is that we say 'when I'm not scared anymore, I'll do it'. I'm judging no one here, because that was my logic for close to a decade. I'll do it when the terror ceases. What I (very) slowly came to realise is that my fear wasn't going anywhere any time soon. For the fear to leave, I had to take the reigns back. For the fear to leave, I needed to show it that I wouldn't let it make me its home anymore. I needed to, as Nike say, just do it.
The first few times, I was so scared I thought I was going to cry. Quite literally. I sat there playing in front of people who have never shown me anything but love and support, terrified. And then it wasn't so terrifying. And then I was only a little scared. And then I wasn't.
I can't tell you that I never struggle with fear and leading worship anymore. I do. What's changed is my attitude, and my ability to turn around and tell fear leave. I know that I'm the one who controls how much fear I allow myself to be ruled by, and I've had enough, which is why I have now said that I will play at an open mic night next week. Am I bricking it? Absolutely. Will that stop me? Well, you'll know when part 2 of 'telling fear where to get off' comes, but I'm certainly hoping it won't.
I don't want to be one of those 'moral of the story' types, but if you, reader, are struggling with fear, I encourage you to step into the fear that you feel, because freedom is worth it. I promise.
Friday, 27 April 2012
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Numbers 9, 12 and 35 - Reading, fasting and sunrises
Having done so appallingly so far at attempting to complete my day zero list, it is satisfying to know that I will be ticking three items off once this is posted!
As said in a previous post, I will tick off any ongoing goals as completed once I feel like they have become habit. Well, here is one of the big ones I really wanted to achieve; I am reading again.
To give you a little background, I applied to read English at university aged 17. I was good at it and found it pretty easy, so I thought 'why not'? The reason not to became apparent when I had an epiphany in class one day. It was simple, to the point, almost abrupt. The point was that I hated English. I hated it. I hated what felt to me like tearing literature apart limb from limb until so many limbs had been torn off that the soul of the story was no longer intact. I pulled out of university and, sadly, stopped reading. I had been so overcooked academically that I no longer had any wish to read.
Being 24 now, I wanted to make a concerted effort to reconcile myself to reading, an activity I had once savoured. Oh boy, have I ever! My appetite for books recently has been voracious. I have been gobbling up adventures, biographies, and more than a little Jane Austen (side note: if you are reading this and thinking that her books are 'just for girls', you are an idiot. Fact). I now read every night before bed without fail. It is distressing to me when I am almost anywhere after 10:30, because it means that I am not in bed. With my book. 'Why am I here?' I think to myself. 'Where is my camomile tea and my duvet? This is unacceptable.' FYI, I know I am an old lady, and I am TOTALLY OK with that.
We now come to the second item on the agenda, being fasting. This was a biggie. I love food. Food is central to my life. Rarely a night goes by without me spending at least 40 minutes cooking myself a meal. I eat well. I also eat a lot of meat. And sweeties. Ooooooooh sweeties.
I came to the realisation that food controls too much of my life. I eat when I am hungry, yes, but I also eat when I am sad. Or lonely. Or tired. Or even just bored. I wanted to discipline myself, and I felt that it was something God was saying, so I decided to do the Daniel fast for lent. This is essentially veganism with no sweets, bread or pasta. And I was grumpy. I mean, for a little while, I was just an unpleasant human being. However, I began to see the benefits, and I am now honestly able to say that vegans, vegetarians and all abstainers of food of some kind, I get it. No, really. I have never felt so clean and energetic in my life. It was bloody hard work, but so worth doing. It ain't ever gonna be permanent, but I might actually cut out all the crap in my diet every once in a while because I felt so good.
My last one was that I wanted to watch the sun rise over St Andrews. There is a lovely tradition here of a sunrise service on Easter. I went to it with my parents and, as with any small town, saw many familiar faces.
Now, I must be honest and tell you that I did not witness the entire sunrise. We came towards the tail end of it, but singing hymns in the ruins of a medieval cathedral overlooking the sea on a gorgeous, clear, crisp day is a pretty special thing. It was made all the more special when three dolphins started to jump out of the water in the bay. At this time, I should have been serene, taken it all in calmly and just meditated on the moment. But then, I am me. 'MUM!! MUUUUUUUM! LOOK! DOOOOOLPHIIIIIIIIIIINS!!!!!'. In my defence though, the whole thing was pretty magical. You gotta give me the moment of being a five-year-old!
As said in a previous post, I will tick off any ongoing goals as completed once I feel like they have become habit. Well, here is one of the big ones I really wanted to achieve; I am reading again.
To give you a little background, I applied to read English at university aged 17. I was good at it and found it pretty easy, so I thought 'why not'? The reason not to became apparent when I had an epiphany in class one day. It was simple, to the point, almost abrupt. The point was that I hated English. I hated it. I hated what felt to me like tearing literature apart limb from limb until so many limbs had been torn off that the soul of the story was no longer intact. I pulled out of university and, sadly, stopped reading. I had been so overcooked academically that I no longer had any wish to read.
Being 24 now, I wanted to make a concerted effort to reconcile myself to reading, an activity I had once savoured. Oh boy, have I ever! My appetite for books recently has been voracious. I have been gobbling up adventures, biographies, and more than a little Jane Austen (side note: if you are reading this and thinking that her books are 'just for girls', you are an idiot. Fact). I now read every night before bed without fail. It is distressing to me when I am almost anywhere after 10:30, because it means that I am not in bed. With my book. 'Why am I here?' I think to myself. 'Where is my camomile tea and my duvet? This is unacceptable.' FYI, I know I am an old lady, and I am TOTALLY OK with that.
We now come to the second item on the agenda, being fasting. This was a biggie. I love food. Food is central to my life. Rarely a night goes by without me spending at least 40 minutes cooking myself a meal. I eat well. I also eat a lot of meat. And sweeties. Ooooooooh sweeties.
I came to the realisation that food controls too much of my life. I eat when I am hungry, yes, but I also eat when I am sad. Or lonely. Or tired. Or even just bored. I wanted to discipline myself, and I felt that it was something God was saying, so I decided to do the Daniel fast for lent. This is essentially veganism with no sweets, bread or pasta. And I was grumpy. I mean, for a little while, I was just an unpleasant human being. However, I began to see the benefits, and I am now honestly able to say that vegans, vegetarians and all abstainers of food of some kind, I get it. No, really. I have never felt so clean and energetic in my life. It was bloody hard work, but so worth doing. It ain't ever gonna be permanent, but I might actually cut out all the crap in my diet every once in a while because I felt so good.
My last one was that I wanted to watch the sun rise over St Andrews. There is a lovely tradition here of a sunrise service on Easter. I went to it with my parents and, as with any small town, saw many familiar faces.
Now, I must be honest and tell you that I did not witness the entire sunrise. We came towards the tail end of it, but singing hymns in the ruins of a medieval cathedral overlooking the sea on a gorgeous, clear, crisp day is a pretty special thing. It was made all the more special when three dolphins started to jump out of the water in the bay. At this time, I should have been serene, taken it all in calmly and just meditated on the moment. But then, I am me. 'MUM!! MUUUUUUUM! LOOK! DOOOOOLPHIIIIIIIIIIINS!!!!!'. In my defence though, the whole thing was pretty magical. You gotta give me the moment of being a five-year-old!
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