Some of our fears are obvious. And some of our fears are not.
We’re usually aware of the obvious ones. But how do we uncover the ones lurking in the background, hidden from the conscious mind?
I had coffee with a friend who’s writing a book. I was super excited to talk to her about her writing process and fear.
Particularly since she’s working on an erotic thriller. (I can only imagine what that would bring up for me.)
As soon as we sat down, I asked the question that was top of mind: “How are you dealing with fear?”
She shrugged, as if it was a non-issue. I was stunned. How could that be?
She seemed unmoved, so I moved on to my next question: “What does your family think of this?”
“They think it’s hilarious,” she replied.
No sooner had the question left my mouth than I realized that I wasn’t worried about what her family thought about her book; I was worried about what my family might think about mine.
The world is constantly mirroring things back to us. What we worry about for others ultimately reflects our concerns for ourselves.
In this particular instance, I was comparing apples to apples (since we’re both writing a book). But in other cases, we might be comparing apples to oranges.
What do you worry about for others?
And what does that represent in your own life?