Fearful fearless
In my family, I am the fearless one. The one who loves rollercoasters, steep trails with sharp dropoffs, cliff edges, and balancing on any manner of wall. Needless to say, I caused my mother and brother (the sensitive ones) some concern.
Imagine my surprise, then, to discover that fear has become my ruling emotion. Fear of rejection and loss, mostly, but it turns out that it spills into my body, too. No surprise, there, I guess.
I also didn’t think I was obliviously selfish. (I am.)Â Turns out, they are deeply related.
Confronted by H, I am starting to understand the dynamic: how my fear of rejection completely obliterates my ability to listen, to empathize, to be generous. It makes me into a self-absorbed and generally yucky person.  Gee, when did that happen?
Perhaps he’s right that this job has brought out the worst in me. This job where every proposal or paper or lecture or seminar is just another opportunity for rejection. That can generate a lot of fear.
So far, it seems like breathing helps.
Here’s to breathing.