My Life of Fantasy and Fear

 

 

 

If I were to subtitle this piece, it might be something like “Waking-up at Age 60?” or “Fear’s Fugitive.” And perhaps it was the turning 60 a few months back that got me to doing some serious soul searching? I’m sitting here at my dinette table in my fifth-wheel trailer, looking out my windows at the beautiful landscape surrounding me here in Trinidad, CA and I want to give some sort of accounting for what my life has been so far. This might also be a sort of apology to my ex-wife, Jeri, and my son, Ryan, for all the heartaches I have caused them.

 

I have done a lot of self-analysis so-to-speak, over the years in my vain attempts to figure out what was “wrong” with me. For example, I never have been able to understand why I don’t have any real friends and I feel in my heart that I’m a true friend and confide in people and am a good listener to their problems, etc. Yet, I know only one guy, Phil, and he calls me once every six months or so and only when he’s drunk.

 

Every great now & then, I have had fantastic, in depth conversations with a stranger or strangers in a bar and they have said things like “This is the best conversation that I’ve had in years,” but those who I feel closest to, rarely ever call me or do any of the things that regular friends seem to do? In my twenties, my “friends” in L.A. often told me that I was “too sensitive.” I have been full of self-doubt it seems for most of my life and have sometimes even questioned my own sanity. I cry at the drop of a hat and feel such empathy for people suffering that it tortures my soul but I can’t seem to get close to people?

 

Before I met Jeri, I never seemed to last more than four months in a relationship with a woman. Were Jeri and I living in a fantasy or was it just me? I do know that Jeri’s love for me gave me a lot more self-confidence and that I accomplished far more as an individual when I was in that relationship. I feel that the fact that she was a teacher and working on her Master’s Degree and believed in me gave me the courage or determination to push myself. And when our son was born, my life was completely transformed because I now felt a deep sense of responsibility like I had never known before. Here was a baby completely helpless and dependent on Jeri and me and watching him go through his changes as he grew gave me such joy, satisfaction, & pride that it’s hard to put down in words.

tough day at Disneyland

 

And as I’m sure happens with many young couples, the pressures of work & raising a child are so demanding that it puts a real strain on the relationships between husbands & wives and Jeri & I slowly drifted apart to the point where we hardly recognized one another and the once bright flame of our love flickered slowly out. We were both to blame for neglecting our relationship but I believe that the fault is mostly mine. My ego has always been fragile and it obviously couldn’t handle the compromises necessary in a marriage.

 

This leads me to perhaps my greatest revelation as of late e.g. I have been an escapist all my life and as I grow old and am filled with even more dread, anxiety, & worry, I know that I have to face my demons or I will definitely spend the rest of my years in sad, bitter, isolation.

 

Therefore, in the hope of connecting the dots of my chaotic life and perhaps empowering myself along the way, I am going to relate the significant events, factors, people, etc. that have been a part of my life. Freud developed what was originally called the “talking cure,” and somewhat tongue in cheek, maybe this is my “writing cure?” But seriously, I know that a “cure” is wishful thinking but nevertheless, this work is critical to my future happiness so it’s well worth the effort.

Jeri, Ryan, and me & my sister Darcy & her husband

 

To begin with, on the “fantasy” side of my life, my earliest memory is of my girlfriend, Connie Hockett, from Salem, Oregon when I was in either the first or second grade. Connie lived right next to the park at the end of the block my grama lived on and we’d swing on the swings for hours singing songs and we’d sit on the park bench and make plans for our future. We were going to get married, live in a cabin high in the Swiss Alps, and raise dogs. I guess I was a hopeless romantic from the beginning and looking back, I’m sure it was a sort of warm, cozy, security blanket for me psychologically.

 

I believe that maybe my seeing the Shirley Temple movie “Heidi” is what planted the desire to live in the Swiss Alps in my young mind? And the fact that my grama had some college students rent the top floor of her house and they’d left behind some stuff, including a travel journal that described their trip around Europe on motor scooters probably sealed the deal?

Also somewhere around the first or second grade—not sure because I went to the first grade twice—the wonderful world of books was opened to me thanks to my loving grama. My grandmother took me to the Salem Public Library across from the state capitol building and got me my first library card. Moreover, my grama showed me how to find my way around town by telling me to note where the gold man on top of the capitol building was, and following that landmark; she showed me the street to follow home to her house. My grama was a tough but loving lady and I’ll never forget her. She gave me independence and confidence and unconditional love.

 

Books became my friends and even though I didn’t realize it at the time but can now see it in the hindsight and wisdom that comes with the years, books were my escape from the ugly reality of my life.

 

Before I go on, I want to be clear that I don’t fault my mom completely though I know that I have always felt some bitter resentment towards her. She had me when she was only 19 years old and my biological father had gone down to California to look for work. She got scared that he might not return and married the first guy who asked her to marry him. And from what an aunt of mine told me in my late teens or early twenties, my stepfather would beat me severely as a young baby. Because of these beatings, I became terribly fearful of him and basically all men & would hide behind furniture whenever he or other men would come into the room I was in. this only made more & more sense as I have matured and tried to grasp why I have always been so fearful of people.

 

Furthermore, the only step-dad that I ever cared for, Don Piercey, told me when I was in my twenties, that when I was a little boy, other kids would pester me and that I preferred to play alone. He said that I’d move away from them and they’d pursue me and that I’d keep moving away from them but after awhile, I’d snap and practically try to gouge their eyes out in my ferocious anger.

our house in N. Hollywood

 

These two revelations regarding my earliest years have shone a spotlight on why I am the way I am. My simplistic or amateur perspective is that because I had been beaten so severely as a baby, I withdrew from others and when others wouldn’t leave me alone; I lashed out viciously and built a wall around myself for life. And in a strange, twisted, ironic, perverted sense possibly, my inner rage has been a sort of security blanket for me because I have hitch-hiked across the U.S., around Europe several times, up & down the West Coast dozens of times and although I’m always fearful, I know deep down inside that my rage will protect me e.g. I have overcome great odds such as several guys with tire irons beating on me due to my powerful rage. So I’m not afraid to go across the ocean on a one-way ticket with a couple hundred bucks in my pocket. Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy or glad about this, it’s just who I am but I would like to get closer to people and find a way to lose this rage. Maybe that’s why I fight so passionately against the corporate cockroaches that are bullying all of us?

 

I have always identified with the underdog and have hated bullies with a passion my whole life. I have defended family, friends, & strangers all my life and I don’t care what the odds are because I hate bullies, unfairness, or injustice with a passion that goes to the marrow of my bones. My sisters, my cousins, my “friends” will tell you that I have fought their battles and defended them against overwhelming odds as we grew up. My mom & her sisters would get together every now & then and would drop us off in a park with some spending money for candy and they always told me “Rob, you’re in charge.” I always took this responsibility seriously but wasn’t happy about having it thrust upon me. And this carried on into my twenties when my friends and I would go out nightclubbing. If a fight broke out and one of my friends was involved, I took care of it. If they were too drunk, I drove them home. I have often lamented over the years that I wished I had an older brother who would stand up for me. And this reminds me of something one of my aunts told me after my mom died, my Aunt Sylvia said that my mother told her that Jeri, my ex-wife, stood up for me no matter what and that Rob had never had that but deserved it.

Ryan & me in Scotland, August 1997

 

And this reminds me of something that I used to tell people about Jeri but it bugged her, “She’s my Rock of Gibraltar.” I only meant to compliment her but she was somehow offended by it? Okay, let’s return to some of the fantasy side of the ledger.

 

The next girlfriend I can remember was in the fourth grade and I think her name was something like Magdalene? I know she was Hispanic and we lived in Wilmington, near Long Beach in the L.A. area. And to be honest with you, I have always had a thing for Hispanic women ever since. The only memory I have of this young love was a party at her house and the fact that the song “Louie, Louie” was playing. A few years later in the sixth grade, I fell in love with Donna Bowman. Her family was from Germany and I don’t think our relationship lasted very long though I did look her up several years later when I was in the U.S. Army and she had developed into a very buxom & attractive young lady who worked at the local hospital, Rancho los Amigos.

 

The first, real love of my life was Teri Cobo. She was from Ecuador and she made my heart stop a beat. Teri and I never consummated our love and my insecurity caused me to break up with her several months after we became boyfriend & girlfriend. I regretted that mistake for many years. A “friend” told me that Teri was dancing with another guy at a school dance and that’s why I broke up with her.

 

Another fantasy of mine started when I was around seven or eight and took a test in The Reader’s Digest from Rod Serling’s writing course. They said I scored an 85 on the test but the price for the course was something we couldn’t afford so I tucked my dream away for a few years. As I went through school, other kids often asked our teachers to read my stories because I was pretty imaginative. I have entertained the dream of becoming a successful writer ever since but my inner critic has held me back for most of my life. It wasn’t until I turned 50 that I was mostly able to silence that negative voice within me. I started a major project that had been sitting on my bookshelf for nearly 17 years and once I started it was like I had opened the floodgates of my creative spirit and before I knew it, I had written over 2,000 pages but I haven’t touched it for several years now and have been focusing on my blog site for the past year. It’s probably my insecurity that has kept me from sending my writing out to publishers but I’m hopeful that I’ve reached a milestone in my life and that if I keep working on dealing with my fears, I may yet become a “successful” writer.

just south of Yachats, Oregon

 

I picture myself in my R.V. parked alongside the ocean, surrounded by giant Redwoods and typing away on my magnum opus. I am financially independent and no longer have to work & can devote myself full-time to my writing and I have a lovely companion who is also an artist. We stay as long as we want, wherever we want and periodically take extended trips overseas. This is my vision.

I believe my fear of my anger has been my greatest enemy. Because I fear my anger so greatly, I have quit many jobs for fear of losing my temper and saying or doing something I will really regret and I have started over so many times that I have a pretty sketchy job history and don’t command much in the way of a salary. But this is going to change because I am the master of my fate.

 

I am working on reprogramming my subconscious so-to-speak. My subconscious has been telling me for the better part of my life that I’m not worthy of much and I have gotten into such a habit of playing the victim that it has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. And although I have become pretty good about putting myself down, upon reflection, I can honestly say that I have lived some of my dreams and I have many more to come.

 

Fear is a strange thing, on the one hand, it has kept me from becoming the kind of man I want to be but on the other hand, it hasn’t stopped me from traveling across oceans alone and with little to my name & not knowing where I was headed or how I would survive. Several times in my life I have been on a plane and just as we took off, fear reared its ugly head along with insecurity, anxiety, worry, doubt, etc. and yet, when I returned back to the U.S., I felt a new sense of power because I had survived. I’ve gone hungry for three days, slept on park benches, worked as an illegal, under the table, etc. In this regard, my fantasies were more powerful than my fears but when it comes to speaking to a large group or to a beautiful woman, I run like a coward.

 

Digging a bit deeper, here are some more of my fears: consciously I know it’s absurd but my subconscious tells me that one day I will be discovered for the phony that I am; I also fear that I’ll die alone in the gutter; I often worry that my son will be or is secretly ashamed of me because I have been such a loser & quitter all my life; and I don’t know exactly why but I believe that deep down inside, I have never felt worthy of true love.

my main man, Socrates! (in my fifth-wheel)

 

It just dawned on me that perhaps part of the reason I have trouble relating to people stems from something my mom often did whenever I brought up subjects she didn’t want to discuss as I was growing up? She’d start shaking seemingly uncontrollably and acting as if she were having a nervous breakdown until I shut up. I hope this doesn’t come across as feeling sorry for myself and come to think of it, I’m actually fortunate because at least I am beginning to unravel some of my inner demons and many people go through their entire lives the prisoner of their fears. I feel like a man who has been imprisoned all his life but senses that his day of liberation is close at hand and my soul is reaching towards the stars.

 

 

Speaking of the heavens, my search for knowledge & wisdom has probably been my greatest source of comfort & hope. To me, knowledge is a golden treasure that empowers us and opens up a world of possibilities. As a young boy, I’d devour books telling tales of adventure, fantasy, action, & science fiction. And as I became a young man, books gave me the confidence that comes from knowing that I was able to master difficult subjects. I believe knowledge can be a great equalizer if we’re given a level playing field and my next task is to put some of this knowledge I’ve worked so hard for, towards getting me the kind of job that will assure me financial independence. And the first step I need to take is to package my skills, abilities, & talents in such a manner as to make me very attractive to a worthy employer.

 

To resume my inventory of my fears, the death of my brother, Tim, in 1975 due to a heroin overdose, had a very profound impact upon my life. I’m not sure if this event could be classified as a fear but it definitely caused me to reevaluate my life and reflect upon what life was about. My mom commented the day of my brother’s funeral that it was the second time she ever saw me cry and since that day, I can barely contain myself from crying & often my tears flow unexpectedly & uncontrollably.

 

Next to my brother’s death at eighteen years old, my experience in the U.S. Army was the other seminal event of my life. I was stationed in Texas and orders came down that half of us were going to Vietnam & half of us were going to Germany. I didn’t know anything about the politics of the Vietnam War but I trusted my gut instincts and started going A.W.O.L. so the army couldn’t send me to Vietnam. I had never been so terrified in my life up until that point. I stayed here and there, asking friends if I could crash on their couches, in their garages, etc. I felt like such a bum and so alone because most of these “friends,” gave me the bum’s rush usually after a few days and the F.B.I. was after me and the entire U.S. Army told me that I would never amount to anything if I didn’t do my patriotic duty. I had scored well on the various tests the Army gave us and the Army promised me the moon in terms of promising me that I could be stationed wherever I wanted and trained in whatever I wanted. But I had witnessed how often the army lied to soldiers and didn’t believe a thing they said. So, I persisted in my A.W.O.L. escapes and after several months I was released with an undesirable discharge.

The Redwoods, my idea of Heaven on Earth

 

Following my experience in the army, I started a long run of Mickey Mouse jobs that were often dirty, dangerous, & low paying. I learned how low a regard most employers had for their employees and often felt like a trapped slave and felt disrespected and humiliated by many employers. I learned that those who were good at ass-kissing usually got the easy jobs and the higher pay. My pride wouldn’t let me be one of those guys and I naively believed that one day an employer would recognize my hard work, intelligence, good character, etc. and give me the opportunity to prove myself. This never came to be though and since I was single and had little in the way of bills, I’d save up a few hundred bucks and hit the open road in search of dreams & fantasies.

 

Many relatives and “friends” over the years accused me of being “irresponsible” and I used to believe this until I started connecting some of the dots in my life. As I mentioned earlier, I was responsible for taking care of my cousins as I grew up and I took care of my brother and sisters as well. I cooked for my brother & sisters since I was 12 years old, made them do their chores, complete their homework, etc. I protected my friends and I stood up for strangers who were being picked on by bullies or outnumbered. And now I strive to protect all those who weren’t as fortunate as me in getting an education. So, I say fuck all those who say I’m not responsible!

 

And speaking of “responsibility,” I recall an especially scary experience when I was looking out for all my cousins—approximately a dozen or so. We were in a liquor store buying candy before going to the park to play. My mom & her sisters were out barhopping and as usual “You’re in charge Rob!” I was taking a head-count and noted that my brother was missing. I walked out of the store and around the corner of the building and saw a woman trying to coax my brother into a car that had the passenger door open & a man behind the wheel with the engine running. I ran over and grabbed my brother’s hand and the woman had his other hand and we were in a tug of war. I started screaming and my cousins came over one by one and were helping me pull on my brother’s free arm. The woman finally gave up and hopped in the car and they left. It has occurred to me that perhaps because I had so much responsibility dumped on me from such an early age, once I became a young man in my twenties and no longer responsible for my brother & sisters, I sort of rebelled and was trying to make up for lost innocence or freedom.

where I stayed in Galicia, Spain 2008

 

Another fear that haunted me from an early age was a cruel step-dad by the name of Wyman Mason. He would whip us at every opportunity and for the smallest infractions. We had to wash dishes, dry dishes, clean the entire kitchen every night, sweep the floors, mop the floors, clean the bathroom, vacuum, empty the garbage, etc. and I felt like we were prisoners of war. I learned to become sneaky and would exit out the back door as he came in the front door. He was such a miser that I can only remember him buying me a single soda in the four or five years he was around. He was a redneck racist bastard from Mississippi and when the Watts riots broke out in South Central L.A., which was right across the riverbed from us, I remember him saying “Any of them god-damned niggers come near here and I’m going to blow their god-damned heads off!” I was never so happy as when he and my mom divorced. I learned years later that he had molested my sister Darcy and wasn’t that surprised considering his character. My mom clearly had poor taste in men and I was happiest when it was just her and us kids living alone without a man.

 

Pursuing this train of thought further, I believe that growing up in a town like Paramount also contributed significantly to my general fearfulness because Paramount was a very poor, industrially-zoned town right across the riverbed from Compton which became infamous as the home of one of America’s most notorious gangs, the C.R.I.P.S. Just about every Friday & Saturday night we’d hear sirens from either ambulances or police cars or both. Beatings, muggings, stabbings, murders, etc. were a common occurrence and I learned as I went through my adolescence that if you get in a fight, you kick their ass fast and hard and get the hell out of there as soon as possible because they’d most likely come back with a weapon and friends and then your ass was grass. In fact, we named ourselves Skid Row and took a kind of pride in our tough surroundings & poverty.

 

I will simply state that I’ve been in many fights in my life and they have often been very ugly. I’ve been knocked down several times but I’ve never been knocked out. And call it courage or call it stupidity but my violent childhood and teenage years gave me the confidence to walk into just about any bar anywhere in the world. I have drank in bars that were all black people, all Hispanic people, bikers, etc. and I have rarely had any trouble because I am respectful and sit by myself and drink my beer but don’t show my fear. They probably think I’m either extremely tough or stupid and therefore leave me alone?

the best job I ever had (teaching ESL at Van Nuys High)

 

By the way, a funny anecdote that I’d like to share with you is when I had to go to anger management. I had gotten a D.U.I. and had to go to a program called Diversion (alcohol abuse/group counseling) and because I was honest and mentioned in the initial interview that Jeri said that if I stopped drinking and went to anger management, perhaps we could work out our differences & save our marriage. As soon as I said this the counselor mandated that I had to attend Anger management group counseling as well as the alcohol group. I felt this was bullshit because I had no charges or record regarding anger issues.

 

Anyway, my anger management group was all guys and a female “counselor.” One of our assignments was to write about every fight we had ever been in and the consequences. Well I’ve always been into writing and I take all assignments seriously and ended up writing something like 25 pages on the subject. We usually got through at least two guys reading what they wrote and the counselor would use their experiences to counsel us about the triggers, consequences, etc. related to anger. Well, when it came to my turn one night, I was the first and I kept reading and before I finished, the counselor stopped me because I was taking up too much of the group’s time and one of the guys in the group said “No, let him go on, this is better than T.V.” Everybody cracked-up but she didn’t let me finish.

 

Changing the subject, it dawned on me this morning that books are more than just an escape for me. I believe that in the back of my mind, I have a fantasy that if I keep on searching long enough & hard enough, someday I will find the knowledge that will set me free i.e. bring me a great career, help me find my soul mate, & bring me peace which is what I believe is my main goal in life. I also dream of meeting a beautiful woman whom I feel intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, & physically in tune with. She will have her own home and be some kind of artist as well and we will travel in my fifth wheel and take occasional trips to foreign lands.

 

Paradoxically, a part of me is somewhat fearful of the coming changes I hope to make. I keep thinking of a quote by Rainer Maria Rilke who was a friend of Nietzsche’s, he said that he was afraid that if he got rid of his demons, he would lose his angels as well. I don’t know if this is my subconscious fighting to keep things the same and talk me out of attempting these changes but I can’t help but wonder if all the stress, turmoil, chaos, etc. in my past & present isn’t what drives me creatively?

my greatest accomplishment

 

To return to some more of my fear/anger experiences etc., I already mentioned the impact my brother’s death had on me but I should also mention that I have attended several friends’ funerals over the years and have often wondered why it wasn’t me who died? I have come close to death several times. Let’s see, I was hit by a car when I was around seven years old, I almost drowned at the Wedge in Newport, CA, I’ve had my head caved-in with tire irons, had baseball bats upside my head, been shot at, had knives pulled on me, etc. My simplistic theory is that some of us have a stronger instinct for survival and perhaps because I have some calling or destiny to do something special with my life is the reason I haven’t gone yet?

 

Unquestionably, one of the most frightening experiences of my life was when I went to L.A. County jail and Wayside Honor Rancho for selling two ounces of pot to two undercover agents. I feel that fear & anger are interrelated and that’s why I’m including some of my scariest life experiences in this essay. In L.A. County jail, I was one of six guys in a four-man cell and had to sleep on a thin mattress under one of the bunks. My stupid, loud-mouthed friend was in County with me because he’d told me that he knew the two guys I sold the pot to and they busted us both. Anyway, David, my “friend,” was a little guy with long hair and he was in another cell and he told me that an older guy kept on making passes at him and I was going to stand up for David but a cellmate warned me that everyone had to fight their own battles in jail or it could get even worse for David. Luckily nothing ever came of it and after a week we were shipped up to Wayside Honor Rancho across from Magic Mountain just north of L.A. about 30 miles or so. Even though I had no record of violence, they put me in maximum security, which was a large dorm of about a hundred bunk beds. It too was extremely overcrowded and again I got a thin mattress and was told to place it between two single beds. A black guy started screaming at me because he didn’t want to be crowded and I didn’t want any trouble so I found a bunk-bed and placed my mattress underneath it so I wouldn’t be in anybody’s way. They didn’t bother to separate out the extremely violent inmates from the relatively harmless ones like David & myself who got busted for pot. There were murderers, rapists, you name it, in this giant cage that was my prison for a week. And one of the rules was that if you didn’t eat everything on your plate, you had to scrub floors for hours. I was never so happy as when I was released from that Hell-hole and I was such a fool that I even paid the bail for David and he never paid me back. My life of crime e.g. selling pot, lasted two days and cost me quite a lot which was probably a good thing or I might have progressed to more serious things?

The Oregon coast!

 

And speaking of high prices paid, one of the things that has hurt me the deepest over the course of my life is the fact that I’ve been in love several times before I met Jeri and they were deeply in love with me as well but because they felt that I wasn’t “ambitious,” I’ve had several girlfriends leave me and break my heart.

 

Perhaps the pursuit of wealth is just not in my DNA or maybe because of my brother’s death & the U.S. Army trying to send me to Vietnam that caused me to reevaluate or distrust any of the common wisdom, common sense, or way we are supposed to live our lives? But as you can see (I hope?), I have indeed paid a heavy price. And I’m either extremely stupid or I have tremendous perseverance.

 

I like to believe that I’m a bulldog and romanticize that my life-long pursuit of knowledge will one day pay off and I don’t just mean financially but that I will be vindicated. I often feel that others may think me the fool but I am proud for example that even though it took me 14 years to earn a bachelor’s degree in English literature & several family members & “friends,” called me a loser, quitter, etc., I finished it. Of course after I earned my B.A., those same people tried telling me that they knew I could do it. Yeah, right! I did it despite their negativity and with no emotional support from them. Bottom-line, even if all the knowledge I’ve spent my life acquiring never makes me a wealthy person, I am already rich in knowledge and my knowledge reassures me because it’s always there for me like a close friend who continually reassures me & encourages me to keep on going and to believe in myself. I’ve been saying to people for the past few years that I feel sort of like a modern day Don Quixote chasing windmills and I think this is a good metaphor to describe myself.

I still dream of sailing the South Pacific

 

In conclusion, I have often felt sort of like a fugitive from life, fearful, angry, worried, etc. but hope springs eternal and perhaps I’m getting close to finding that peace, security, & calm that we all seek? I hope that this exploration of my past may bring some understanding & possibly even help Jeri & Ryan to know me on a deeper level? And if my life experiences can serve as an inspiration or lesson to even a single person, this essay will have been worth the effort of writing it down.

 

 

 

Addendum

 

The following are some nuggets I’ve gleaned from “Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway” by Susan Jeffers, Ph. D. (felt these might add some clarification re: the experiences, and other factors in my life?)

 

o    I believe it’s primarily an educational problem (fear)

o    A wonderful sense of relief & calm I’d never felt before

o    I unlearned the thinking that had been keeping me a prisoner

o    I’m not promising that change is easy

o    Exercises to help you unravel the complexities of fear

o    Raise your self-esteem, become more assertive, make your dreams a reality

o    A part of you knows that there is a lot of wonderful “stuff” within you

o    …opening the door to the power & love within

o    fear can be broken down into three levels

o    level two fears involve the ego

o    you protect yourself & thus limit yourself

o    you shut down and close out the world around you

o    the biggest fear of all—that you can’t handle whatever life might bring you

o    everytime you feel afraid, remind yourself it is simply because you’re not feedling good enough about yourself

o    Truth One: the fear will never go away as long as I continue to grow

o    Truth Two: the only way to get rid of the fear of doing something is to go out and do it

o    “When I feel better about myself then I’ll do it” (common rationalization)

o    Truth three: the only way to feel better about myself is to go out and do it

o    Truth four: everyone else feels the fear too

o    Exercise: say the Fear truths ten times a day

o    Truth five: pushing through fear is less frightening than living with the underlying fear that comes from a feeling of helplessness

o    You live with a sense of dread far more severe than the fear you feel if you take the risk

o    We can’t escape fear but we can turn it into a companion, an adventure

o    You have the Power to do what is necessary for your own self-growth

o    The truth is that Love & Power go together

o    Your subconscious believes only what it hears, not what is true

o    Take a risk a day

o    Most of us are filled with old conditioning that is keeping us weak

o    Are you a victim or are you taking responsibility for your life?

o    They have given their power to someone or something else

o    You are your own worst enemy

o    Until you fully understand that you are responsible for what goes on inside your head, you will never be in control of your life

o    Taking responsibility means not blaming yourself

o    You must be patient with yourself

o    Anger is your clue that you are not taking responsibility

o    List of signs that you are not taking responsibility (anger, upset, blaming others, pain, vengeance, lack of focus, self-pity, envy, helplessness, constant state of limbo, impatience, joylessness, fatigue, intimidation, attempt to control others, obsessiveness, addictions, judgmentalness, disappointment, jealousy)

o    Your inner chatterbox is making you a victim

o    Payoffs and perpetuating the negatives in our lives

o    Affirmations are one of the most powerful tools for building self-confidence

o    Taking responsibility means figuring out what you want in life and acting on it

o    Many of us spend our lives waiting

o    The key is : commitment, clear goals, & action

o    At every moment you are choosing the way you feel

o    The key is not to blame others for your being upset

o    In every situation there are at least 30 options

o    See if you can go one week without criticizing or complaining

o    Avoid blaming yourself for not being in control

o    Postitive thinking is one of the most difficult concepts to get across

o    90% of what we worry about never happens

o    why be miserable when you can be happy?

o    Nothing is realistic or unrealistic

o    Stop feeding yourself negative thoughts

o    The intellect acts in the same way as our muscles e.g. use it or lose it

o    Your library of self-help books as an incredible support system

o    Use positive quotes

o    An Affirmation is self-talk in its highest form

o    Out-talk your Negativity

o    Repeat Affirmations in front of the mirror

o    Don’t listen to negative news the first thing in the morning or the last thing at night (until you’ve developed the habit of positive thinking—a month approximately)

o    Your whole world will turn around

o    Positive thinking does not deny the pain & suffering in the world

o    Denial creates inactivity

o    It’s extremely important to have a support group in your life

o    You have to go out and create the kind of support system you want

Trinidad, CA

 

 

 

 

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