Well. That was unexpected. Day 1 at #BeeInspiredLive yesterday and I was excited for inspiration, direction, connection and fun.
What I experienced was an emotional battering that has nothing to do with the gorgeous Dani Wallace and everything to do with how much shit I’ve been holding onto.
You see, it’s been A YEAR. I mean, hasn’t it though? I know I’m not alone in this. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that we’re never alone in feeling how we feel. So if I’m feeling battered I’m sure you are too.
I’ve been using all of my tools for stress processing. I’ve been doing all the self-care and practising what I preach. Bloody annoying isn’t it having to practice what we preach? But excessive kindness to ourselves is my message and I have been showing up for myself with love every day.
There’s one thing that’s been missing though. And I have been resisting it with every fibre of my being.
Vulnerability.
Ooooooh we don’t like it do we? Showing others that we are vulnerable. Admitting that things are hard. Worst of all, admitting that we don’t know the answer. That’s the worst for me. I can be as open as you like about my struggles when they are done or when I know the answer. But when I don’t know the answer? I’d rather hide under a rock than open up.
BeeInspired cracked me open. I started feeling all the things I had hoped to feel. The inspiration was real! I was scribbling in the notebook from my goodie bag, ideas flowing. And then…
I started to feel uncertain. Called out. Angry. Frustrated. Scared. Overwhelmed. I sat on the floor. I went out for a breather. I had another coffee. I told people on my table I was feeling wobbly. I mainlined chocolate buttons when I got home. The panic had set in. The emotions were demanding to be felt.
So I got on a video call with my wonderful boyfriend (who lives in the States) and I let. it. out.
It was snotty. It was tearful. It was angry. It was petulant. It was an hour of a tantrum (I love a good tantrum) and then it was an evening of messaging friends who held space for me, and understood how uncomfortable was the vulnerability.
The big admission? The big vulnerability? It’s not anything that will be new to you because we’re never alone…
Finances are way too tight. No matter what I do, it’s not all adding up. And I am SCARED.
Woahhhhhhhhhhhh I’ve said it. And Seamus the Shame Monster is shambling through the door to shake me for being so openly vulnerable. Am I mad??
No Seamus, I’m not. Because do you know what happens when you are vulnerable with people? And let out what’s been bubbling inside? Shame gets smaller. It loses its sting. It cannot stand being pulled into the light. It shrivels up under the onslaught of how much people care about you. Because they do. They care about me and they care about you.
Let me tell you what else happens when you let out what’s stuck inside: you make room for new things. The universe has been sending me messages, hard. You will see from this LinkedIn post that the messages have been coming thick and fast. I got more yesterday, in my goodie bag, from friends, from the stage. I am being bombarded with what I need to know. At the 5th birthday celebrations for Caroline Boardman’s business last Monday I put into Ali Knight’s cauldron* the intention that “I am not afraid to stop and listen.” I say intention because I am aiming to feel that way. I am afraid to stop and listen, and rightly so because I had to do that yesterday and it allowed space for what needed to be felt to come out. Terrifying! But so bloody necessary.
* yes Ali is a witch. Check her out.
The conclusion? This is the worst bit: I don’t have a solution. Never before have I written something without a firm conclusion. That’s not my jam! Well it’s going to have to be. I am stopping and listening. I put so much out there into the world, it is time for me to listen to what is coming back. So. Here I am. Open to hear the messages.
Let’s go for BeeInspired day 2…
Helen Calvert
The No Bullsh*t Coach
September 2023
P.S. – this is not a post about financial insecurity. Yes things are less than ideal from my usual point of view, but I live a privileged life and am in no real jeopardy. I am fortunate, so fortunate, that I will always have a roof over my head.