Lately, I’ve been noticing something in myself that I suspect many of us experience.
A fear arises. Sometimes it’s fear about money. Sometimes it’s fear about the future, my business, my relationships, or whether life will unfold the way I hope it will. The fear itself isn’t usually the problem. The problem is what happens next.
Almost immediately, my mind begins searching for a way to regain control.
I start thinking about all the things I should be doing. Maybe I need a new strategy. Maybe I need to work harder. Maybe I need to make more calls, send more emails, create more opportunities, or figure out some secret solution that will guarantee everything works out exactly the way I want.
On the surface, it seems reasonable. Fear shows up, and we try to solve it.
But I’ve noticed that the harder I try to control everything, the more fearful I often become.
Why?
Because the pursuit of control eventually forces me to confront how much is actually outside of my control.
I can’t control the economy. I can’t control when people say yes or no. I can’t control the timing of opportunities. I can’t control what other people think, how they behave, or whether they choose to support me. I can’t control the countless variables that influence our lives every single day.
And when I become fixated on all the things I cannot control, fear gains momentum.
It’s a fascinating cycle. Fear tells us that control will make us feel safe. We then try to control more of our environment, only to discover how little control we truly have. That realization creates even more fear, which causes us to tighten our grip even further.
It’s exhausting.
I’ve especially noticed this pattern around money.
When fear whispers that there may not be enough, my immediate reaction is to go out and create more. More clients. More projects. More possibilities. There is absolutely nothing wrong with taking action. In fact, action is often necessary.
But there is a profound difference between action that comes from inspiration and action that comes from fear.
When fear is driving, I can feel it in my body. My chest tightens. My thoughts race. My attention narrows. Instead of seeing possibilities, I see problems. Instead of feeling creative, I feel pressured. Instead of trusting the process, I feel responsible for carrying the entire weight of the future on my shoulders.
Ironically, this contracted state is often the very thing that blocks the abundance, opportunities, and solutions I’m seeking.
Over time, I’ve developed a different approach when fear shows up.
The first step is awareness.
Rather than immediately reacting, I try to simply notice what is happening. I acknowledge that fear is present without making it wrong. Fear is a normal human experience. It is part of being alive. But fear is also a storyteller, and not every story it tells is true.
Just because fear says something bad might happen doesn’t mean it will.
Once I’ve recognized the fear, I ask myself a simple question:
“What is one thing I can do right now that is within my control?”
Not ten things. Not fifty things. Just one.
Maybe it’s sending an email. Having a conversation. Reviewing my finances. Creating a piece of content. Reaching out to someone for support. Taking one grounded action often creates far more momentum than frantically trying to solve every possible future problem.
And then comes the part I find most challenging: surrender.
After I’ve done what I can do, I practice releasing the outcome.
Not because I don’t care. Not because I’m giving up. But because carrying anxiety about things I cannot control does not improve the outcome. It only steals my energy in the present moment.
What if trust is not the absence of action, but the willingness to act while accepting uncertainty?
What if surrender isn’t weakness, but wisdom?
Another practice that has been helping me is paying attention to where my mind is focusing.
Fear is constantly rehearsing the worst-case scenario. It wants us to imagine everything that could go wrong. It convinces us that if we worry enough, we’ll somehow be prepared.
But what if we gave equal attention to what could go right?
What if the opportunity arrives?
What if the right client calls?
What if the solution appears?
What if life is already working behind the scenes in ways we cannot yet see?
I’m not talking about denying reality or pretending challenges don’t exist. I’m talking about consciously choosing where we place our attention. Because wherever attention goes, energy tends to follow.
These days, when fear starts creating stories about lack, failure, or uncertainty, I try to gently redirect my focus toward possibility, trust, and the best-case scenario. Not because I’m certain everything will work out perfectly, but because I’ve learned that fear is only one voice in the room.
And it doesn’t deserve to make all the decisions.
Sometimes the greatest freedom comes when we stop trying to control everything and start trusting ourselves to handle whatever comes next.
Much Love
Linda

