I reached out to a dear close friend for a video chat about my sadness on Christmas day. It was the last time I would see her or talk with her. Two days later she died during open heart surgery. She was someone for whom I had relieved of her sadness a few weeks before, and she gave it back to me. “Play,” she said, “make it fun, or don’t do it” was her advice. People close to her said that is the attitude she had before her surgery, and probably even in the moment of her passing.
We were talking about my terror of going public with a podcast. My inner child that had been wounded by being unseen and unheard became willing to risk my heart and soul for the sheer joy of giving away the priceless gift of self-acceptance that I have received repeatedly for years – about 37 years and 10 months – to be exact.
With her help, I finally pushed through my terror of being seen and heard. Several times during December I had, like stage fright, gone back and forth between “I can do this” and “It’s too hard.” As soon as I hit the “publish” button for the launch of my very first podcast, after days of struggle with tech issues, my heart was in my throat.
Now, I am often losing sleep at night because I am excited about the next episode. My goal is publish a new 8-minute episode every week! I want people to send me their questions, comments and suggestions.
This single step has been like an initiation, crossing a threshold into completely new territory. It triggered spin-off projects, such as reorganizing my website so all my communications are on one page, and collecting the transcripts of the podcasts into the potential content for yet another book which I did not anticipate writing. I thought I was done! HA!
A long time ago I had a dream of being naked, running as fast as I could, past snarling, vicious dogs who would destroy me — and I was laughing! That’s the story of my life in a few words…. and that is why I am still running.
David Hazen 