Cold Feet

Back in the day, I used to teach a class called Humanities–Search for Meaning. Having the opportunity to teach this class everyday was the reason I jumped out of bed in the mornings. The books we read facilitated thought-provoking conversations that expanded our ability to think critically while also embracing the uncertain and the unknown.

One of the books we read in that class was Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. The book blends O’Brien’s real-life experience in Vietnam with narratives that may or may not have happened as told, but the truth in each story rests in the emotion he created within the reader.

“On the Rainy River” is the retelling of his life leading up to and after the day he found out he had been drafted to fight in the Vietnam War. Fresh out of Macalaster College in Minnesota, O’Brien is drafted to fight in the Vietnam War—a war he doesn't believe in. Despite being a top student and publicly opposing the war, community and government pressures corner him to fulfill his duty as a patriot of this country.

Unable to find a legitimate way out of being shipped off to war, O'Brien toys with the idea of running off to Canada. While there, he spends several days at a secluded fishing lodge, bonding silently with Elroy Berdahl, the perceptive old man running the place. Berdahl, sensing O’Brien’s motive, takes O’Brien fishing near the Canadian border but doesn’t say a word. O'Brien considers leaping out of the boat into the cold bordering waters and swimming to Canada, but ultimately he decides against it, overwhelmed by the thought of losing face back home.

As a result, he reluctantly returns to his hometown and heads to war, wrestling with his choice and what it costs him in terms of his principles.

The last sentence of the story reads, “I was a coward. I went to the war.”

Now, I know newsletters are supposed to be inspirational and motivational and provide you with practical strategies that will enhance your life experiences.

But part of learning what strategies work best is taking the time to sort out what thoughts, feelings, emotions, and actions are getting in our way.

Oftentimes, this learning process does not happen overnight. Sometimes we need to journal about what’s rummaging through our minds. Sometimes we need to talk it over with a friend. Sometimes we need to talk it through with a therapist or a life coach.

Part of that process involves asking ourselves, “My Spidey senses are tingling, but is that intuition or fear?”

Remember when I went skydiving? I dwelled in all of the worst-case scenarios (like detaching from my jump master and plummeting to my death). I damn-near bailed on that experience because I had “concerns” about the weather that day. Then I got angry because they were refusing to refund my money. I had catastrophized the entire experience in my head before I even got in the van.

I just knew I was on my way to meet my demise.

A few stressful hours later, the chute opened, I floated high above the Australian countryside, took in the Pacific Ocean in the distance, and landed safely.

All that worrying for nothing.

Truth be told, I had those same fears and second thoughts about going to Seoul.

A part of me was angry with myself for going back into education when I had said it was the one thing I wouldn’t ever do again (granted, it was a different platform and audience this time around). It also didn’t help that the reviews for my future company weren’t great.

Then again, the person who referred me to that company loved working for them. So there was that.

I knew it wasn’t the same predicament Tim O’Brien faced when choosing between fleeing to Canada or fighting in a war he opposed, but I could relate to his struggle of indecision and compromising on principles.

The Great Uncertainty I was feeling at the time gave me cold feet, and I nearly backed out of going to Seoul a million times that week.

It was all I had been thinking about.

So, was what I was feeling intuition? Or was it just fear?

Was I compromising my principles and setting myself up for a year of misery?

Was this line of thinking leading to a self-fulfilling prophecy of self-sabotage?

Was I compromising my principles and rushing into that decision?

Or was I being responsible based on my present circumstances?

Was I a coward?

As I mulled over the “rightness” of that decision, I found myself knee-deep in the "What ifs…" and the “Yeah, buts…” which had me second-guessing my sanity more times than I'd like to admit.

Maybe you’ve waded through this bog of uncertainty as well…

If you have, let’s both do ourselves a favor by cutting ourselves some slack and practicing self-compassion.

Self-compassion wasn’t about giving ourselves an easy out or patting ourselves on the back for no reason.

It was about acknowledging our struggles without judgment and accepting that feeling uncertain or scared was part of being human—especially when faced with big changes.

It wasn’t cowardice.

It was realizing that it was totally normal to freak out a bit when you were about to turn your life upside down.

That was what making a major life decision was all about.

Welcome it in, make peace with it, and trust in your ability to make the best decision for your future.

Thanks for taking the time to read this week’s newsletter.? If what I shared resonated with you, please forward this email to someone who may find value in what I shared as well.? Doing so is the best compliment you can give me!?

For more resources (including courses), please visit www.billylahr.com or www.mindfulmidlifecrisis.com.??

Subscribe to The Mindful Midlife Crisis on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.??

Don’t forget to download your FREE Jump Start Your Midlife workbook!?

Check out my FREE Mindfulness for Anxiety course.?

Click here for guided meditations that will bring you more calm amidst the chaos.