I call this voice “The Fear”. The Fear is a simple animal: It’s scared that if I don’t I move my
money into a higher-interest savings account, and soon, I will go broke; terrified that if I don’t come up with new designs tomorrow, everyone is going to get bored with my old crap; and really worried that I say I can’t afford health insurance yet I drop thousands on wine, shoes, plane tickets and dry-farmed-locally-and-sustainably-produced- heirloom tomatoes. Do you have your priorities straight missy? Are you doing what a responsible adult would be doing with her life? Maybe you should go get a job. Pottery Barn is dying to hire you ! As a sales rep of course...The fear is like a bad date: relentlessly reciting the stories it thinks will get your attention, with little regard for truth. I’m like, “Give it up dude! You suck, you’re boring, and you ain’t even cute! Why are you still here?" I’ve always been receptive to listening to the fear, and believing the fear is in reaction to reality. But as my reality gets better and the fear still talks about the same old crap, I’m really starting to wonder if it ever knew what it was talking about in the first place.
