The Anvils We Hold On To

I was speaking with a single mom I’ve known for a very long time the other day about where she is in her life, the struggles she faces and her deep concerns for her family finances. This friend has always been upbeat and talks a good talk about life, optimistic but always seeming to struggle with money in some aspect or another (think BIG bottoms hit a few times in her life).

I don’t coach this friend—I listen and support, acting as a safe place for her to vent and land when needed. So why do I bring this up here now?

I just can’t stop thinking about the things we hold on to that don’t serve us in our life, the weights that drag us down while we absently look the other way and fight to move forward to make progress toward a more satisfying life. A lot of times they are things we’ve held on to for a very long time: a limiting belief, way of being, grudge, path not our own.

We all have them: anvils we cling to while striving to build a successful business, a healthy relationship, a meaningful life. Boomers and many Gen Xers (and their children forced to watch endless loops of Looney Tunes reruns) will get the visual of Wile E. Coyote perched on a high cliff, plotting to stop swift Road Runner by dropping the iron block on him as he speeds by on the road below.

But the anvil is a ruse. Coyote’s ego has made him believe Runner must be his dinner tonight and that he must defeat and beat the swifter, more agile bird. He ends up purchasing whatever shiny, new ACME tool he can bring to the fight. If it was simply hunger—a coyote’s gotta eat, yes—surely there is a bunny ambling around that would make an easier catch, no?

When I think of what holds me back, I get a vision of walking in a deep and narrow dirt rut. In this rut my head is barely ground level, and the earthen walls are brushing up against my elbows as I make my way forward (think WWI trench warfare). But I am also digging my way forward through the earth as I go—not easy, not fast, quite frustrating. It’s all these things but it is also safe, comforting not to have to look up out of the self-built and solid defense system around me.

My anvil is the safety of the rules I was taught as a child: be good, get good grades, don’t upset anyone, stay in your lane. This has served me well—got me through college, kept me disciplined to maintain good jobs and relationships—but never allowed me to stretch myself, see the possibilities around me, allow my true creative nature to play out over a long period of time, discover deep meaning for my life.

In the past, when I’ve looked up out of that rut to see possibilities around me, I’ve quickly put my head back down to keep shoveling. It’s safer, known and comfortable, but I’ve also missed many opportunities to explore, create and experiment. It’s just too frightening, too unknown.

At some point the rut becomes boring, difficult and tedious and I have a choice to make: keep my head down and just work on surviving the rut, managing the inevitable depression, weight gain and despair at having settled for a life half-lived, or lift my head up and see that it’s really not a no-man’s-land out there, that there is sunshine, birds singing, support and freedom outside the trench. I have to choose this every day.

What’ your anvil? What’s holding you back from achieving the life you want to live?

I conjecture that Mr. Coyote’s anvil is really analogous to his need to defeat Mr. Runner at his game, —the need to win--and that if he really wanted to dine on fowl that night, he would use his innate wiles to catch him rather than the heavy, impossible anvil that always seems to be the end of him. (Or find an unsuspecting bunny to fill his belly--good luck with that!)

I surmise my friend’s anvil is the importance she gives money in her life and the belief that someone else will save her and provide for her. Just my guess; it could be a myriad of things.

I worked with a coach to help me uncover my anvil and ways to let go of it, but I also recently found a great exercise in Tara Swart’s The Source: The Secrets of the Universe, the Science of the Brain that you might try:

1. Sit somewhere comfortable, relax and take a few calming breaths. Imagine you are in a vast meadow on a beautiful, sunny day standing in front of a hot air balloon ready for flight.
2. Imagine climbing into the balloon’s basket and noticing it is pretty easy to steer but there are four sandbags holding the balloon down. You want to fly, soar with the clouds, but the tethered bags are preventing your flight.
3. You turn toward the sandbags and notice that one has the word FEAR written on it. Two others have ENVY and EXPECTATION written on them. One by one you untie and release these weights. You release FEAR and the basket hovers over the ground a little. You release ENVY and the basket is a little higher but leaning to one side. You release EXPECTATION and you are a good distance from the ground. But there is one final sandbag holding you down.
4. You look down at the last sandbag and see what is written on it. It is unique to you. What is it? What is holding you back? What’s stopping you from soaring with the clouds?
5. Imagine untying that last sandbag and watching it disappear as you rise up into the sky. What is that like? How does that feel?
6. Steer the balloon wherever you want, over mountains, oceans or all the way to outer space. This is your journey, and you can go wherever you want.

Here is where the rubber meets the road: Whatever is holding you back from living your best life—money, fear of failure, shame, other people’s opinion, etc.--do you have the courage to untether it, let it go? Like the sandbags, it is not serving you anymore or allowing you to grow and be the best you you can be.

Coyote must let go of the anvil before he goes down with it. I have to lift my head out of my rut before I get buried in it. What do you need to do?

I’d love to hear about it. Let me know what your last sandbag is and if you have the courage to untie it.