Tag Archives: Confidence

Strength Training

Facing your fear, confronting your grief, softening to strong emotions and relaxing with discursive thoughts, staying with reality rather than getting hooked by a story or grasping at hope, letting go, surrendering instead of running away or rejecting or numbing out, is like lifting weights, like strength training–-the more you do it, the stronger you get, the more solid your confidence and courage become, the more open and whole your heart, the more complete and fulfilling your life.

And when the next wave of pain or suffering comes, it’s not so likely to knock you down. You will be less apt to freak out or fall over. You might even find that the strength of your core, the power of your presence is such that you stand as it washes over you, heart open and mind calm and surrounded by love even as your heart breaks.

The point is: the bad stuff won’t stop coming, won’t go away. There is no safe place, no ground to stand on that won’t continue to shift and change under your feet. What will happen is you will be able to stay with it, clarity and compassion and wisdom will arise, and you will find yourself rising up to meet it, strong and tender even if you are terrified.

You’ve got this. You know what to do. You are loved and you are not alone.

Three Truths and One Wish

1. Truth: Confidence is the antidote to fear. It is medicine for the poison of anxiety and worry. And it doesn’t mean being cocky or puffed up about yourself. It means open-hearted faith in your own capacity for natural wisdom and compassion, belief in fundamental, basic goodness. It means resting in the knowledge that everything is unfolding exactly as it should be, and that everything presents an opportunity to love more, to learn to practice and get stronger.

2. Truth: I will know what to do when the bad stuff happens. It will be bad, hard, brutal, and maybe even terrifying, but I will be able to handle it, make the right decisions, do the right thing.

3. Truth: I don’t have to live in the someday moment of terror right now. I don’t have to actively reject it, plan for it, worry about it, or anticipate it. I can surrender, let go and be present in this moment. This moment when he is here, I can see him, reach out and touch his physical form, a body that right now is surprisingly healthy and strong, alive.

One wish: That everyone suffering from physical illness, whether it be chronic, temporary, or terminal feel some relief, experience love, connection, and joy in this moment.