05/08/2014 11:19 am ET Updated Dec 06, 2017

I Don't Know


Sometimes "I don't know" is a cop out. It's not saying what we feel, when we really do know. It's not owning our wisdom. Today I found myself upset by the death of a Facebook friend. I didn't know her that well, but we messaged a few times and I sent her my novel. I keep saying I don't know why I'm so upset. But the truth is I do know. Because when I think of her husband and his pain, it makes me so sad. It makes me think of losing one of my loved ones. It scares the crap outta me. I think I'm not afraid to die, but I have so much I want to do in this lifetime. I have things I want to accomplish and experience, and I'm torn within.

I have this feeling that I should just be happy with what I have and not strive or want more. Which is so silly. I would tell someone else that's ridiculous. That we live in an expansive Universe. It's about creation and is ever-evolving and all my woo woo stuff. While I know that is true and that a Higher Power called God, Source, or Spirit, would never want the flowers to stop blooming. Like... oh, that's enough beauty, enough sunsets and trees, we need no more. Nope. What I'm feeling is not I don't know. It's what Bob Proctor calls the Terror Barrier and what Brene Brown talks about when she says joy terrifies us. I heard those words before, but you see when you reach a new level of something with career, finances, accomplishments, your love life, you have a baby, or you are feeling high on life like an epic awesomeness... inside things get rattled. Our primal survivor part is scared of change anyway even when it's good, it can feel like danger. So we stay in comfort zones that aren't even good, because it's easier. We have less to lose. I'm really grasping this lately.

I sound like a mess when I say that I cried on the phone to my mom about how it was terrible that this woman I knew through Facebook died. Her name was Alina Morrison, by the way, and she was a beautiful soul. I feel naked sharing how there's a part of me that feels fragile, knowing big things lie ahead for me. I felt like a scaredy cat nervous kid today, which as a child, I actually did have a major fear that people I loved would die. It would keep me awake at night. I'd have to say a certain amount of Hail Marys or Our Fathers to quiet my inner demons. On the phone, I spoke about how the more you love, the bigger the whole that is left when they leave. My mom said no, you can't look at it that way, you have more memories and can remember all the love in those good times. Fear was trying to trick me, that if we talked about it too long we'd invite death somehow. We still kept talking about funeral songs and how we'd give signs to our loved ones from the other side.

I later texted my mom and asked her how old her dad was when he passed away. He had a premonition the week before that he was going to die. He was 69. My mom is 69 now. I asked if it freaked her out. She said she hadn't thought about it, but she was hoping to live until my gram did, which was 88. I told her 115 would be better for me. I texted that whenever she does goes, that she has given me enough love for a hundred lifetimes. She texted back that she's received it tenfold. I cannot imagine my life without her whenever that comes... which I hope is 40 more years, but I will be okay. I never held back my love a single day. So I'll walk past the big old fear and move forward with my dreams. I'll be grateful where I'm at and open to receive even more. I believe in my dreams and let go of all doubt. Deep breath. It's safe to receive, live, love, and achieve. I DO know this.

Alina Morison's beautiful picture can be found in Jade Beall's book: