“Just Don’t Do It?”–The Search for Aliveness
Have you ever felt a spark of curiosity or a burst of inspiration, only to have it immediately squashed by that annoying, scared voice in your head? The voice that says, “Don’t bother… it’s not important… you’ll look ridiculous… NOT TODAY!”
I know that voice all too well. For years, it was the loudest voice in my life. Even though I’ve always been curious by nature, I lived in a prison of limiting beliefs that always led me down the same road to “Just don’t do it!”
So I spent most of my life not doing much—especially not doing much on my own.
When I became a widow at the age of 41, the aching, persistent echo of inaction became very loud as I no longer had a partner to follow—I either had to do things (mostly on my own), or I would never leave the house!
In that space of deep loss and raw self discovery, and in my devotion to living authentically, I wanted to reconnect to that curious 8-year-old me who was always smiling and looking for fun! At 8, the simple acts of riding around on my roller skates and doing cartwheels in the grass were all I needed to put a smile on my face and feel a rush of freedom.
That girl wasn’t afraid of doing—she was simply alive.
Aliveness is that feeling of pure joy when you are deeply present—experiencing all emotions vividly, being energized by experiences and relationships, and having a sense of purpose. Aliveness requires moving outside your comfort zone. As Brené Brown describes, it requires “being in the arena of life” instead of being “a spectator in the bleachers”.
So in an effort to bring that aliveness into my life, I started a new practice: saying “Yes” to doing small acts of kindness for myself, and doing them by myself. For far too long, I had talked myself out of these seemingly "little things" that I wanted to do, justifying my inaction with excuses:
“It’s just not that important.”
“It won’t really matter to anyone else whether I do it or not.”
“I’ll have the chance another time.”
“I should spend my time on more important things.”
And the most intimidating and limiting thought of all:
“I don’t want to do it alone”
But I've discovered that these small acts of kindness bring immense joy—they're essential to who I am. I am curious by nature, I love to explore, and I thrive when I try new things!
The hardest part of actually doing anything was getting past the rumination in my head about whether or not I should do it. Something as simple as going out for lunch on my own created a full-blown movie in my head—cue the anxiety scene in “Inside Out 2”:
“Why take myself out for a solo lunch when I have plenty of food in my fridge at home?!”
“Won’t I look silly sitting in a restaurant by myself?!”
“What if someone sees me–I should have a story ready to justify being by myself!”
“I should just not do it.”
“Maybe I should invite a friend so I won’t look lonely.”
This mental chatter has accompanied almost every action I’ve taken in the past few years—a solo walk through my neighborhood, salsa dancing lessons, a somatic movement class on the beach, solo travels, enrolling in new classes… the list goes on and on! I definitely didn’t need to do any of these things, but I really wanted to, and that’s more than enough of a reason to say “yes!”
In what was years of heavy seriousness in my life, saying yes and engaging in these activities brought the fun and joy—true aliveness!—that I desperately needed.
Each “Yes” to myself was a rebellion against the voice that told me I shouldn’t. Each action was a vote for the woman I was becoming. And now, they continue to be simple pleasures.
One of my favorite pieces of inspiration comes from Shane Parrish, who says:
“When the stakes are low, inaction hurts you.”
And even more powerfully:
“Every choice you make is a step toward or away from the person you want to become.”
Anytime my internal dialogue spirals into fear in response to a new opportunity or decision, I return to these truths. I have learned to shut down the internal rumination, commit to the action, and move forward, despite feeling fearful.
The voice that says “Don’t do it” no longer gets the final say. Instead, the wiser, bolder part of me—the one who is curious, courageous, and fiercely loyal to my joyful 8-year-old self—gets to lead.
That scared internal voice never fully goes away, but the confidence built from taking action compounds over time and definitely quells the fear. And let’s not forget the joy of knowing my 8-year-old self is smiling at me with gratitude and love for a life filled with aliveness!
