Fear Doesn’t Block the Path of Serendipity

But practicing faith makes traveling it a bit more fun.

Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash

This very cool experience came up in conversation the other day, which I’m taking as a sign to re-share. I love this story…

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The year I left my secure school counseling job to open my private practice was an enormous leap of faith. My fears leaving a life I had learned to navigate comfortably were quite loud. Trying on a whole new experience felt scary on a regular basis and I looked for signs that I was on the “right path” everywhere.

And most of the time, when I asked, they showed up.

In retrospect, the amount of validating moments that presented themselves are even more amazing to me now. One evening in particular stands out as I was trying to get comfortable using my authentic voice.

I stood in the dark parking lot for several minutes before going inside the restaurant event that waited for my arrival. The expectation of the night remained unknown.  I was unprepared and uncomfortable and really, I didn’t genuinely want to be there. Yet the discomfort of the invite drew me in as a means of addressing one more fear I’d long held.

It wasn’t meant to be a big deal, this networking dinner I’d been asked to attend.  My friend said “come mingle and meet people in your field”. I knew it was a good idea, meeting new mental health professionals who had long worked independently.

I loved to share my views on mental health. I wasn’t new to the work, but I was just beginning my private practice so I didn’t at feel like I knew what I was doing. I was insecure in my ability to share my opinions independently, not representing anyone else other than myself.  

I heard the question in the darkness break my internal stillness….”Who am I going to be tonight?”

It was a fair question. I’d spent most of my career in a profession that required me to filter my words and opinions. I had to craft my views wisely to ensure the face I showed was acceptable to the employer I represented. 

I could not have been successful if I didn’t curb my true inner thoughts and feelings…which was also the reason I was no longer there.  I longed to break free of the constraints and in that parking lot, I recognized that I was free. This was my choice, my gig, my terms, and yet I wasn’t exactly sure what that looked like.

I wanted to assist whichever part of me was going to show up to be prepared.

After a brief assessment of who was best suited for the evening’s professional performance, I heard the next question…”why don’t you just be yourself?”

The exhale came fast. I was terrified. The internal fears flooded quickly. “What will they think of me if I share my non traditional views? How will they reject me once they realize I am not one of them? Will the start of my new career be the end of it?”

And then…”wait, what am I really afraid of? I have absolutely nothing to lose. Go be yourself and try her on. What’s not to like?”

Deep breath.  

The first gentleman I met greeted me with a glass of wine and introduced himself as a psychiatrist on staff at a local hospital.  He explained his job a bit and went on to share his experience as not only a graduate of a highly esteemed Ivy League college, but a professor of the very same elite school.  He had more experience, training and education in my field than anyone I’d ever met.

He asked me about myself and I explained the newness of my independent work, but my long experience working with children and families. I then dove into my newer passion of energy therapy, a practice with very little scientific backing, but more proof of success than anything I’d experienced. 

I told him one story after another of what I had learned. I waited for the look of disapproval, and to my surprise, it never came. 

He listened intently with great curiosity and asked numerous questions.  He did not just listen, he was interested. I was not rejected, I was embraced.

I challenged some of the long time practices of medicating children without assessing their hormonal fluctuations and lifestyle factors and he did not disagree. In fact, he asked me even more questions on my thoughts and experiences working with teenagers.

About twenty minutes into our discussion, we were interrupted by a new face who arrived. The psychiatrist quickly introduced me to his colleague who felt familiar, but I could not place him.  He said his name and it hit me with a swift pang of recognition. 

I knew this man- and I was absolutely stunned to be standing across from him at the same event.

He was the psychiatrist my mother sought help from when I was a child.  The man who worked with my mother for years to tame her tumultuous mood swings and deep depression.

I vividly remembered running around the outside of his office with my brother while my mother anxiously hoped for solutions to combat her inner fears.  

The same fears I, too, tried to help her face when I listened to her woes. It occurred to me were practically colleagues working with the same patient, hoping our efforts would help her life improve.  The same early experiences which introduced me to my future profession and passion of helping people.

This man had more in common with me than he would ever know. 

Due to my mother’s suicide, I chose not to tell him how I knew him. It felt awkward and I wasn’t sure how I’d even bring it up. I held the knowledge close to me in quiet awe.

Instead I sat at a table with him and our now mutual connection and continued to talk about the benefits and wonder of energy therapy- with confidence. I spoke of my experiences and the successes I had working with those who felt stuck.

I could not believe I was sharing a seat at the same table with seasoned professionals vocalizing my non conventional insights, particularly with someone my own mother trusted so deeply.

I knew I was in the right place at the right time and was in amazement my life choices had brought me full circle. Had I not left my stable job, not taken the terrifying steps that had been serendipitously placed in front of me, I wouldn’t have been there that night.

When the night ended, the Ivy League psychiatrist asked that we stay in touch so he could hear more. I was both surprised and flattered.

My authentic self had arrived.  And she knew exactly what she was doing.

Serendipity, once again, met me at the door to remind me.

Where has serendipity guided you lately?