“Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith”
-Margaret Shepard
For over 20 years, I owned a business. It was great work, had an impact in the world that I was proud of, but it never quite felt like my “real” work. You know, that kind of work that feels like it uses the best of what you have to offer, and feels deeply satisfying. There was an itch to shift something, but it was not clear I would ever have enough courage to change.
I had spent most of my adult life trying to prove my self worth, trying to outsmart the critics that sat on my shoulder. I was never clear who I was trying to prove myself to, but what was clear was that I didn’t really trust myself or believe in myself to make the life that was both satisfying and impactful.
None of this was based on facts. My insecurities had nothing to do with how good I was at my job. It had nothing to do with my ability to take charge of my life, or in how I was perceived by others. This was entirely internally driven. I was over-doing the active, solid, efficient parts of myself, in order to feel like I was enough, all at the expense of joy, wonder, experimentation and beauty. I was working really hard and being busy in an attempt to fill some place inside of me that never could get filled. And it felt like there was nothing to be done about it…..that it was “just the way it was.”
Then, in 2014, I leapt.
I acted on a long-time knowing that my life needed shaking up, that a leap was waiting for me.
I left my home of 40 years and moved back to Kansas, USA, where I had lived until I was 24 years old. This was a huge leap of faith, one that required that I trust and believe in my ability to roll with whatever showed up. It required me to grieve leaving a wonderful community, deep roots in the land, and returned to the part of me that lives deep in my bone marrow…..to the place where I am truly at HOME.
I have periodically taken these leaps of faith in my life. I know how they work by now. But they never really get easier.
So, what have I learned about leaps of faith?
- You know for a long time that a leap is needed. Every single time I have leapt, I put off making the change that I know is needed, sometimes for years. I always thought I needed to see the next step, be sure of something before I leap. I thought I needed to know I would land on my feet, have a roof over my head, be able to support myself, not be alone and lonely.
- Plan as much as you need to but less than you think is necessary. I needed to know I had the basics covered (income, emotional support, the ability to leap without ending up homeless). What I have learned is that each leap gives you a bit more confidence to land on your feet, and a bit more access to your courage to actually make the move.
- When you finally muster the courage to leap, it is still not clear. I still was not sure I would be ok, have a roof, money, security. The nature of leaping is that there is a risk to it, and you can’t always be sure.
- The ground always comes up to meet you. By putting your faith in yourself, those big life security issues resolve, as though your new home, new community, new income has been waiting for you to get the courage to leap, waiting to hold and support you in your new life. I have leapt several times in my life, and the ground has ALWAYS come up to meet me.
- Unexpected turns are part of the process. No matter how much you plan, or try to hold onto your security, things happen that you did not predict. Some are fabulous and some challenging. You adjust as you go along. My mantra when making a leap is: “Life is a grand experiment.”
- There is always grief. Loss is always part of leaps of faith. For me, it was loss of community, proximity to my grown children, loss of a dream of making relationships work. My grief helped me to see what I loved, and I was more able to find ways to stay connected to the parts I was grieving.
- None of the best parts show up until you decide to leap. As soon as I committed to jumping out of my old life into a new life, pieces started lining up. A place to live, the ability to stop traveling for work, and within a few years, I jumped out of my old business. I leapt into creating the kinds of relationships that work for me, and I jumped into a new community at the age of 65.
Now I am leaping again. (Yes, if I am honest, I will tell you that part of me says “WHY?!?!?”)
I am launching Kellogg Sisters Feed & Seed (kelloggsisters.com) and its off-shoot, Bring on Your Bravery (bringonyourbravery.com).
A part of me knows that mustering my courage will bring more interesting things my way than holding tight to the status quo, yet I am as terrified as I have been each time I have leapt.
I am willing to leap because I know I want a more creative life than my life of the past. I want a life that has room for art and beauty and friends and fun, while still having an impact on the world. The world still needs me, still needs what I uniquely have to offer, so my new business ventures tap my deepest abilities and my yearning to be of service.
Through all of this, I hold onto the words of my daughter Lily, my partner in Bring on Your Bravery. When she was 22, she moved to the Amazon rainforest to teach English to an indigenous group deep in the jungle. When I asked her if she was afraid to go there, she looked at me with a quizzical face and said, “Why would I be scared? I have never done it before.”
I invite you to chew on that attitude about doing what scares you!