Fear followed me for 15km until it finally spoke.

15th kilometer in I entered the forest at the edge of Berlin.

I could hear my steps thudding the ground - my headphones stayed at home.

No matter how fast I ran, it kept on keeping my pace.

Accompanying me shoulder to shoulder.

That nameless sensation - tense, itchy, I’d even call it irritating. It would not let me just be.

A couple of kilometers later it finally spoke up.

Headspace, Calm and other meditation apps. Daily yoga practice. Yoga retreats.

Full of hope one of those tools will help me fight off my constant exhaustion and anxiety.

I remember when I was running a data science bootcamp and I had 5 lectures lined up in a row as the lead teacher. I knew it’s going to be a really challenging week, so I’ve made sure to wake up earlier and meditate each morning. I hoped it will lower the exhaustion and anxiety - I really wanted to show up energised and deliver amazing lectures to my students and to be there for my teaching team throughout the day.

In the moment of silence I genuinely felt better. Disconnected from triggers, intrusive thoughts, I was enjoying the guided mediation and once the practice was over, I would get up and head to work.

Yet somehow every day I was coming back home exhausted. More anxious every day. When the weekend arrived I could only think of collapsing into my bed and not getting up for two days.

The voices guiding my morning meditation were promising a release and peace.

Why wasn’t it working?!

“Why didn’t you ask for help?”

“There was no help available.”

“That’s not your problem. If you asked, we would figure out how to support you.”

My manager’s words were ringing in my ears when I was running through the forest. I heard them on repeat in my head.

Why didn’t I ask for help? The tension in my chest got stronger. Another kilometer passed.

What would have happened if I have asked?

“They would think you’re incompetent” - my silent invisible companion suddenly replied. “You did the right thing. Nobody saw how exhausted you are, they thought you’re unbeatable and so reliable! You should be proud.”

My feet kept on going. I could sense my shoulders hunching. “I don’t want to be seen as unable… I can do it all. I did. Just need to sleep more now, I’ll recover.”

“Are you sure you want to sleep more? That’s lazy. Your friends don’t want to be around lazy people, remember?”

Like.. I’ll end up alone?

“Lonely, alone, solo - call you as you want. We don’t want to end up like that, do we?”

While still running, I turned my head to the side and I saw him clearly. He was silently keeping up for so long until he finally felt he had space to speak.

It was Fear.

The conversation we had continued for so long that I realised I was at the end of the U-Bahn train line. It was the only sensible way to go back home. I wouldn’t be able to run another 22km that day, not in this world.

Fear walked silently next to me as if aware I needed a moment to process. He seemed happy that for the first time I referred to him by using his name. When I first looked at him during the run he was scared. Now, he seemed calm and comfortable - nobody was trying to push him away or ignore what he had to say.

And I did listen. I knew that he was trying to protect me. Trying to keep me safe. But this safety came at a cost I could not bear anymore. I explained to him, that if we keep on clinging to the worst case scenario, nothing will ever change. I had to something differently.

When the door closed behind me, I have already decided - when Monday arrives, I will talk to my manager and ask that they find a secondary teacher. My body was heavy with apprehension, but I’ve made the decision. I decided to do it scared.

During that exact run I decided to say no. No to the patterns which have been directing my life for way too long.

My run was my moment of silence and stillness in movement. What is your way to create the space for the things that’s been silently accompanying you?

If it’s meditation - try it once without the guided audio.

If it’s movement - try it without the headphones.

Stay in that silence until the discomfort arrives. If you’re worried it won’t - trust me, it will. Sit with it even if it stings. Allow it to take the space and speak up. If you need support in that, I made a free guide on how to welcome the uncomfortable feelings and say no to your own patterns.

Let me know how did your conversation go.

thanks for reading until the end.

big hug,

zuz