Let’s say you’ve mapped out your Small-Business Tree. And you’ve even done some digging to discover the roots of your business, those things that sustain and feed and anchor you.
Which is great!
Except that you keep getting slightly disturbing information about one of your roots. You ask yourself questions like “Why did I go into business for myself?” and you immediately get the answer “Because I have to!”
Hmm, you think. That can’t be right. That doesn’t feel good. It feels kind of … icky and frightening. Let me just skip over that and try to get to some real roots.
And you do. You find some things that really feed your business and help you feel good. But lurking there, still underground, is that scary sentence: I have to. I’ve got to. I must.
OK. Let’s just sit for a moment and breathe, because (I swear I am not making this up) I literally just got attacked by chest pains because I’m thinking about this scary root. I’m sitting here typing a blog post and suddenly I can’t breathe.
After about 30 seconds it passes and I test my lungs with a few deep breaths. And sigh with relief. And recognition. Because I’ve been here before. Yes, I’ve apparently just liveblogged a panic attack.
Because who am I kidding here? When I was talking about you, and your root of “I have to,” I was really talking about me. My root. My fear.
Me: Why, hello there, fear. It’s not exactly pleasant to see you again.
My fear: That’s right! So maybe you’ll stay away from all this excavating roots silliness now! Yaaaargh!
Me: Um. Actually, I’d like to ask you what you’re doing.
My fear: You idiot. I’m protecting you. So just shut up and no one will get hurt.
Me. Okay. See, the thing is, you almost gave me a heart attack just there. You know, with the chest pains? So I’ve kinda got to ask you, do you think we could work out a way for you to protect me that won’t end up killing me?
My fear: …?!?
Me: I know. That’s not what you wanted.
My fear: No! I just want you to be safe!
Me: Safe from what?
My fear: Safe from …OR ELSE!
OK. Another deep breath. Because I see exactly what my fear is talking about here. It’s the hidden end of that “I must” sentence. It goes like this: “I’m in business because I have to be. Or else…”
- I’ll get evicted.
- I’ll go bankrupt.
- I’ll have to get a horrible soul-sucking job that I will never be able to escape.
- I won’t be able to provide for my children.
- I’ll end up living in a van down by the river (yep, spoken in the voice of Chris Farley’s Matt Foley, Motivational Speaker)
- I’ll die alone, penniless, and ten pounds overweight (thank you, Al Franken playing Stuart Smalley)
Yeah. Pretty crappy stuff, there. With all that hanging over my head, you bet fear can be a powerful motivating force. Lots of people stay in those horrible soul-sucking jobs because they’re afraid of losing them. (I did, for years, until I got laid off. Another story for another post.)
And if I listened to the fear, I would probably end up feeling like that was my only root. Or the only root that mattered, anyway.
My fear: Forget support, forget help and encouragement…the only thing that matters is that if you don’t make some money by the end of this month you’ll DIE!
Me: *whimper*
My fear: So hurry up and get marketing! Who cares if it’s sleazy!
Me: B-but…that’s not me.
My fear: No one cares whether it’s you or not! Grow some damn branches right now! Sucker some fools into giving us some bucks!
Me: But if all I have is one root and a few branches, that’s not a tree at all. That’s not what I want to be.
My fear: What are you talking about? We need the money!
Me: Yes, we do. But I want to help people, not squeeze money out of them. I want to be a strong small-business tree, with roots and a trunk and healthy branches. You’re talking about a carrot. Just a big fat root and no trunk and a few leaves. You’re the Deadly Carrot of Fear!
My fear: Am not! Am not! Lalalalala I can’t hear you!
Me: OK, it’s OK, I want to give you a new job.
My fear: …??
Me: I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. The Deadly Carrot of Fear is ridiculous, I know. And you can’t stand feeling ridiculous.
My fear: No kidding.
Me: You don’t have to be scary or ridiculous. You could be a nourishing carrot.
My fear: Do I have to wear some kind of stupid costume? Because I’m sick of that. You know, big, bad, old me, fear, wearing the camouflage of reasonableness or practicality or prudence or safety.
Me: I know. I remember. I don’t want you to wear a disguise. I want you to be strong, juicy fear in all your glory.
My fear: Huh?
Me: Because you, my fear, are an affirmation of my growth. You show me where my path is and what I need to be careful of. And then I can work with you. We’ll be a team.
My fear: You mean… I’m good for something? Just me? Just being who I really am?
Me: Yes. Yes. Being your true, scary self. Showing up when I need you.
My fear: I’m not going to lose this job? You’re not going to laugh at me?
Me: Well, sometimes I’ll laugh, when I see what a good job you’re doing.
My fear: I’ll be the best Deadly Carrot of Fear ever!
Me: Thank you. I love you.
Whew. What a journey. I think I need to go eat some Wheaties for a strong heart.





