I don’t like anxiety. I’m not a big fan of apprehension, angst, and a bunch of other words that start with A. Maybe it’s because I grew up with it as a constant, or maybe it’s from the PTSD, or maybe it’s the genetic predisposition I have to OCD (an anxiety disorder), but it’s a part of my life.

And perhaps the worst anxiety is that of anticipation, and not in a fun way.

When I was a teenager (back in the age of the dinosaurs, according to my teen sons), I had a love/hate relationship with rollercoasters. I loved them after the fact, when I’d had fun, and just as importantly, walked away without puking, fainting, peeing myself, or getting injured.

And they were fun! I have always loved getting myself dizzy and feeling changing G-forces. But I hated the waiting. And one time, while I was in a very long line for the new Demon rollercoaster at what was then Marriott’s Great America in Santa Clara, California, it struck me that the anxiety I felt while in line was far worse than any anxiety about the ride itself. Because I didn’t know exactly what would happen this time.

Waiting for the unknown is harder than living the unknown. Click To Tweet

I don’t even like anxiety or angst in TV shows. TV producers can kill off a favorite character (sometimes more than once *side-eyes Supernatural*) and the audience doesn’t always know if they’ll return or not. (Yes, everyone returns at some point on Supernatural.) I don’t like it when there’s angst between characters who care for each other. So what do I do? I cheat. I look ahead to see if said character is in a future episode description, or I research to see if the internet has info on how long the actor’s contract is in effect, or I follow whoever I’m interested in on social media, because at least I know they’re alive and well as the actor, even if not the character.

But I also miss out on the emotions that are meant to be evoked by the show.

I write fiction. I very intentionally play with people’s emotions through my characters. But I don’t want to get on the ride of someone else’s story?

Earlier today, I had a scheduled call with my coach, Teresa Romain. I told her how I didn’t want to feel things that were unpleasant, that my body was giving me all these signs of anxiety and overwhelm, given the COVID-19 pandemic, but I wasn’t feeling it in my head. My head was telling me I was fine. My head was off with my guides, seeing the very broad picture where we (our essences) are all fine, and had left the Here and Now.

In other words, I was doing that thing where the actors (our essences) are alive and well, even if we have to wait to see what’s going to happen to the characters (our bodies).

Your heart has to be open, Teresa told me, to live fully.

I have to be willing to feel the pain, the sorrow, the grief, the anxiety. Because that’s part of life too. That’s part of living in a physical world. That’s why we incarnate in the first place.

Part of me really doesn’t want to go there. I’d rather sleep or read or binge-watch mindless shows or do all the home improvement projects our 102-year-old house needs. But that’s not living.

My coach could see through the chaos in my mind and find the path into and through it. This is why coaches and therapists are so helpful: they aren’t in the chaos, so they have better perspective.

And our soul guides are the ultimate coaches.

I’ve had a belief for most of my life that I wouldn’t live past age 65, which means I’d have just over a dozen years left to experience everything I want to experience. Today, my primary guide, Dresden, said, “If you had made the effort to bother asking me if you were still on that trajectory of living a shortened lifespan, I would have told you that ever since you began EMDR, it has completely changed.”

Our guides can’t predict the future; there are too many variables and we all have free will. But they can see what will happen if we don’t make any changes. Or what can happen if we make that difficult but necessary change to fully embrace all of life, connected to our essence and our guides, knowing that even in a world that at the moment seems filled with disease and disaster, we are fine, and loved, and we matter.

If you want to learn how to connect with your own guides, contact me for a free Illumination Session.