Like the French, I took August off.  In my case, it was from blogging – not the Parisian heat.

Actually, I didn’t take a month off from writing the blog, but rather posting it.  I wrote four of them but couldn’t press:

PUBLISH.

It’s been puzzling me why this has become so hard.  I’ve only committed to blog once a month.  How difficult could that be?

Clearly, pretty difficult.

I was speaking to my friend Lori last week and told her how I was just going to skip the August blog and start again in September.

Didn’t you commit to writing and posting every month? she asked in that Lori, very understanding but you-don’t-get-off-the-hook-that-easily, way.

Yes, I told her.  I did but –

The month’s not over yet, she then said.

Oh, crap.  Then I heard myself saying, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you – part of it in my head, then part of it out loud.

She just laughed.

I went to an EFT Workshop in July.  I think that’s where the discomfort began.

EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique) or Tapping is a healing modality that uses tapping on meridian or energy points on the body to help alleviate stress and pain.  And lots of other things.

I’ve been incorporating it in my practice more and more as a way to tap out limiting beliefs and blocks and tap in their positive counterparts.

If you don’t know about EFT, it might sound strange but I have seen amazing results from it and there are studies that back up its effectiveness.

Back to the workshop.  It was great.  I met wonderful people – healers of all varieties.  I opened up about myself and my intuitive work with complete strangers who had come together for a common mission.  I learned lots and had lots of fun.  Connections were made.  Lots of authenticity was going down.  It absolutely exceeded my expectations in every way.

The Workshop ended and I felt so full, so alive.  And I wanted to share.  I wanted to write.  I wanted to tell everyone about the weekly tapping group that I was planning.  I wanted to move forward.

But I couldn’t.   I just couldn’t.   I’d write partial blogs and make partial plans.  Moving forward was suddenly a Herculean task for someone who was feeling more and more wimpy.

What was wrong with me?

Finally, it began to come clear.  During the Workshop, I had expanded.  I expanded my scope and my circle.  And these new people might actually read my blog – or visit my website.  They suddenly became more people to whom I would show more of my real self.  More of my vulnerabilities.  More of who I am.

Couple that with the idea of starting a weekly group and adding more new people to the mix – well that was starting to feel like too much.  What the hell had I signed up for?  Who did I think I was?  What do I have to say that’s so special or blog-worthy?

I hadn’t realized it then but I had started to contract.  I had started hiding.  I was pulling back.

Why is being real and being seen so darn frightening?

The best answer I can come up with on this Labor Day, the 2nd of September 2013, is that it just is.  It is part of the human experience to resist change.  To hide.  To not show our real selves.  In some strange, illusory and compelling way, it makes us feel safe.  It makes us feel protected.  It can be so much easier to contract instead of expand.

In the moment.

But what a lie this is.  Meticulously folded into our DNA over tens of thousands of years, this directive to contract keeps us from thriving.

Expansion is the gateway to what we want in our lives.  Expansion is the doorway to fully living and fully loving.  Expansion is the answer.

But expansion can be fucking scary.

Then I hear my wise one, Lori, in my head saying – okay, it’s scary but so what.  Do it anyway.

doitanyway

I hate that she’s always right.  And I hate that I am writing this blog a month late.  But I am writing it.  I am expanding.

Then it occurs to me that commitment is the constant act of expansion.  Showing up everyday.  Moving forward one measly step at a time.  Lots of little expansions making up bigger expansions.

All the clichés are true after all.  Rome really wasn’t built in a day.

So in this state of discomfort and excitement, I commit to this horrible, terrible, wonderful thing called expansion and press:

PUBLISH.