THE VOICE IN YOUR MIND SCREAMING “NOOOO” IS LYING TO YOU

How I'm learning to do the scary things anyway, and why the feeling afterwards is worth every sweaty palm.

Hi dear one.

This one is free for everyone, straight from my heart in Bali. Paid subscribers get the extra treat of hearing it in my voice, plus everything else behind the curtain. If my words add something to your week, come join me.

It is so easy to say no.

No to the thing that feels awkward. No to the thing that’s new. No to anything that comes with that little flutter of fear in the mind, the one that whispers, then shouts, noooo… don’t do it. Saying no is comfortable. Saying no means tea on the sofa and everything staying exactly as it is. Lovely, safe and super predictable.

And also, if I’m being honest with myself, a slow kind of shrinking.

Because here’s the thing I keep relearning, over and over, like it’s my first day at school. When I actually challenge that voice and do the thing anyway? Wow...the feeling afterwards. There is nothing quite like it. It’s not just relief that it’s over. It’s this nice glowing I did it. A little more space inside. A little more of me available to myself.

They say we truly grow when we step out of our comfort zone. And yes, yes, we’ve all heard it. We’ve seen it on mugs and Instagram posts and probably a fridge magnet or two. We get it.

But getting it and doing it are two very different things.

The saying I don’t buy

There’s another one that gets thrown around a lot: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Hmm… I’m not so sure about that one.

I can think of plenty of things that don’t kill you but don’t make you stronger either. Things people walk away from carrying trauma, fear, or wounds that take years to soften and heal. Surviving something is not the same as growing from it. Sometimes what doesn’t kill you just… hurts you, and then you have healing to do. Let’s be honest about that instead of slapping a motivational sticker on it.

So no, I’m not talking about throwing ourselves off cliffs (metaphorical or otherwise) in the name of growth. Discomfort is not the same as harm. There’s a difference between the stretch and the snap, and part of growing is learning to feel where that line is for you.

For me, seeking discomfort lives in the small things. The email you’ve been avoiding, the conversation that makes your palms sweaty. Pressing publish. Asking for help. Saying “I don’t know how to do this” out loud. Tiny things from the outside, mountains from the inside. That’s where the real work is, not in the dramatic leaps, but in the small daily choices to move towards the flutter instead of away from it.

Where I am right now

I’m telling you all this because I am, at this very moment, sitting right in the middle of it.
I have two projects on the go, and both of them have that particular flavour of wow, this is overwhelming. New territory and kind of scary. The sort of thing where you open your laptop, look at what needs doing, and briefly consider becoming a person who lives in a cave and owns one bowl. 😊

And right on cue, the doubt sneaks in. Am I capable? Can I actually do this? Who do I think I am? On and on it goes, like an uninvited guest who not only shows up but starts rearranging the furniture.

Vrittis: the mind’s broken record

In yoga, we have a beautiful word for all this mental noise: vrittis. The fluctuations of the mind. The swirls, the loops, the endless commentary. The mind running its broken record of past programming and conditioning. Old fears in new outfits.

Because that’s really what it is, isn’t it? That voice saying you can’t do this is rarely reporting live from the present moment. It’s replaying something old.

A teacher’s comment from decades ago at school.

A time we tried and it went wrong.

A belief we absorbed before we were old enough to question it. The mind, bless it, thinks it’s protecting us. It’s just working from a very outdated instruction manual.

The whole practice of yoga, the real practice, not just the bendy bits, is learning to see the vrittis for what they are. Not truth or prophecy. Just weather, clouds passing through a sky that was never actually damaged by any of them.

And here’s what I find genuinely comforting, I don’t have to silence the doubt to move forward. That was my misunderstanding for years, waiting to feel confident before acting, as if confidence were the entry ticket. It isn’t. The doubt can come along for the ride. It can sit in the back seat with its broken record playing away, while I keep my hands on the wheel and keep driving.

The doubt gets a seat. It doesn’t get the steering wheel.

The gap between the fear and the thing

Have you ever noticed that the fear of the thing is almost always worse than the thing?

The dread of the difficult conversation is heavier than the conversation. The anxiety before pressing publish lasts longer than the pressing. Our minds are extraordinary filmmakers, producing entire disaster movies about events that end up being… just fine. Usually even wonderful.

So lately, when the overwhelm rises with these two projects, I try to catch the moment and ask myself, is this actually hard right now, or is my mind just showing me the trailer for a film that doesn’t exist? Nine times out of ten, it’s the trailer. The actual present moment, this email, this page, this one next step, is nearly always manageable.

That’s the other secret hiding in plain sight, we never have to do the whole thing. We only ever have to do the next small bit of it. The mind panics about the mountain, the feet only ever need to take one step.

So, here’s where I’ve landed

I’m not going to pretend I’ve made friends with discomfort. We’re more like neighbours who nod at each other over the fence. Some days politely, some days through gritted teeth.

But I do know this, almost every good thing in my life sits on the other side of a moment where my mind screamed noooo… and I did it anyway. And I suspect if you look back at your own life, you’ll find the same.

So, this is me, sitting in the middle of the discomfort, doubts chattering away in the back seat, choosing to keep going with these two scary, new, overwhelming and oh so exciting projects. Not because I’m certain I can do it. But because I’d rather find out than let a broken record from the past make my decisions for me.

Maybe there’s something in your life right now with that same flutter and vrittis in your mind attached to it. Something small, even. Especially something small.

You don’t need to feel ready. You just need to do the next little bit, with the fear riding along.

And oh, that feeling afterwards, when you realise how brave you just were. I promise you, it’s worth it.

Until next time stay grateful and curious.

With love (and slightly sweaty palms),
Kim

P.S. Paid subscribers get this article in my voice. Pop in your earbuds and let me ramble to you properly.