Override the panic button
I was in bed with an elephant on my chest. It wasn't the first time I felt that kind of pain. It had been going on for a few days. Should I tell my husband about it? Or was it all in my head?
My father-in-law had passed away a year prior from a sudden heart attack. He had had pain in his stomach for a few days that were the early signs that something was wrong. He didn't catch them fast enough.
Was I doing the same? Was I having a silent heart attack?
I caved in and told my husband who calmly said it was probably nothing but that I should get it checked out.
It was cold in my doctor's office. I kept my winter coat on in the waiting room as I scrolled mindlessly on my phone.
It was early January 2018, and I had just tipped into the second and final year of my unemployment benefits. In one year I'd be 100% on my own.
The date loomed in my mind. "Was I making the right decision to become a coach?" "Could I survive financially?" "Would I be any good at it?" 'Should I just go back to marketing?" "Should I answer some ads on LinkedIn?" "What if this is all a big waste of time and I lose these precious months of benefits to get a full time job?"
My doctor asked what was going on. I told him about the pain in my chest and that I was a bit stressed out because I had a tipped into the final year of unemployment while I transitioned to a new career and was spending my days in cafés drinking a million coffees while I built my coaching website.
He examined me and then said, "You're not having a heart attack. Just stop drinking so much coffee and go back to your full-time job if you don't want the stress of owning your own business. It's hard."
And that was that!
I listened to just half of his advice. Can you guess which half, Zeva?
I was reminded of this story this week when a client had that deep, heavy feeling in her chest the day after she announced her new business to her contacts, and was debating whether to throw in the towel and go back to her old line of work.
I think she and I both experienced the "point of no return" panic button that our brains hit when they feel us tilting into a truly new territory. As you sink deeper and deeper in love with your new path, your brain starts freaking out like an old boyfriend trying to woo you back.
"But wait, it wasn't all that bad, right?"
"You've had some time to relax and take a break, isn't it time just go back to what you know?"
"Play it safe."
"The unknown is scary and hard. Beware!"
All it takes is a sharp-witted doctor, a worried parent or a friend with a fab new promotion, to cue your brain to strum up its favorite fear-mongering phrases.
I'm here to say: don't let your fears lead you off your path! Listen to them, welcome them, but explore what's really going on under the surface.
What do you really need right now?
Very often you're just looking for a concrete sign that you are moving in the right direction, and need a friendly reminder to ease off the caffeine!