Words, that's all they are... sometimes.
You can speak 50,000 words that float joyously past me like butterflies of all different colors drifting by on a warm summer day. I notice them, they are lovely and joyful, I hear them but they come and they go almost like an unseen breeze. We know the breeze is there but it doesn't impact us until it changes, just like words. Words simply "are" until the words evoke pain; it can be as few as 5, 10 or 15 words that change the direction of the wind from a balmy summer breeze to a frigid, shrieking gale-force wind that wreaks havoc with our emotions.
Pain from words often comes to me not in malicious or argumentative form, but always in the form of someone telling me "no." "No, you can't do that," "No one does that," "It won't work," "It's not a good idea." The word "no" often isn't even in the sentence... it's what I hear when faced with any opposition or negativity to my dreams or visions. However, the connotation that it won't work, can't happen, or doesn't make sense is there loud and clear. Someone is sharing their belief, which is coloured by how they see the world and may not align with your own vision or perhaps you are simply missing something.
When these occasions arise, something deep within my being stirs from its sleep. That sweet animal you thought was a fawn resting in the woods is actually a lioness protecting her cubs. Her cubs are her dreams, aspirations, and visions and she protects them like any mother would her child.
I simply can't hear thoughts of "you can't" or "it won't work" -- it stirs something deep in my soul. I want to scream, "Yes I can, yes I will, you just watch me!"
If I share my dream, my vision or thoughts with someone and they choose to share negativity with me (intended or not), I feel it so deeply. My heart beats faster, my breathing becomes shallow and my stomach turns to knots. What is this that happens so aggressively within my body? I want to erase those words immediately. I want to see the "yes." Yes I can and yes I will figure it out.
I am self aware enough to know that anything that evokes deep emotion within me is always something about me. What does this mean to me? If I take a step back and see clearly outside of my emotions I might contemplate a need to re-evaluate my idea, or ask myself if I have a clear plan, a roadmap. How am I getting from idea to action? This is where my pain comes from in these circumstances; it's always those middle steps that I detest. I am a starter and a finisher... I detest the details. Yet I create goals all the time without having documented steps to obtain them. I already know them internally, they require no work.
Why am I filled with deep anxiety when I have to look at the in-between steps? Is it that I don't actually know what the steps in between are, so that my fear rises and I take an abrupt turn away from my dreams?
Could I have stumbled upon one of the key reasons why people don't attain their goals?
Do we stop moving forward with our ideas, paralyzed with fear because we can't see the entire process? We often have the start and the finish but have no idea how to get there. How many of us have let go of our dreams due to this paralyzing fear around the lack of seeing the steps along the way?
What words give you anxiety when you hear them? Pay attention to how your body feels when you have a conversation that you want to run from or make stop in its tracks. These are growth opportunities.
I say to me and I say to you sit down, calm down and hear what was said, but more importantly; LISTEN to how you feel and know that it's telling you something about yourself!
For me, today's "no" inspired me to look within, to see that I have more work to do to get to my goal of speaking to hundreds and eventually thousands. I need to look at the steps I am taking, become clear on my vision but most importantly start mapping out a plan.
Let me be clear: A no is still nothing more than a motivator to get to my goal. I will still proceed without having the full vision and even while feeling fearful. Today I can see that my random flights of inspiration sometimes need not only intention but also attention.
Fear is the greatest inspiration I know.