On Fighting Boggarts - Part II

During college, I picked up bouldering as a hobby to consistently train myself in fighting with Boggarts. I was afraid of heights. When I was over 6 feet above the floor, I would panic with an overwhelming sense of falling. But then, I learned to permeate my whole consciousness into my body, to breathe, to feel the grip of my hands on the holds and my feet pressing firmly into the wall. I had to train myself so I could learn it is okay to feel afraid. It is okay to stay in my body even when all I want is out. Occasionally I lost my grip and fell off the wall, so I fell properly by landing softly on my feet and rolling to my sides. Then I could get back up again and give it another try. More and more often I could make it to the top, and naturally I cared less and less about falling. I accepted it as part of the trials, and gradually my Boggart held less and less power on me.

Sometimes, the test for confidence is more complicated and difficult than making to the top of a rock wall. When I first started promoting The Courage to be Me, for instance, things could not work out for a long time. We had extremely low turn out for months. There were people, who supported me before, drifting away or suddenly cutting off all our connections after one night. At first, it was a big blow. For someone like me, few things are more traumatizing than the withdrawal of someone’s faith in me. One night, after another unfruitful campaign and cancelling out a meeting I had prepared for two weeks, I stayed alone in my apartment with no one’s approval or recognition to rely on. The Boggart was poking out its head again, and I could feel a familiar sense of powerlessness hitting my chest, the same emotional block that made me give up fighting after the bully's first blow in kindergarten. Then, suddenly inside of me, something else started to grow.

It felt warm and steady, like a small candle flame that would never cease burning. It was a decision, a decision to be better no matter how challenging my battle with the Boggart proves to be. If the low turnout is a result of the ineffective marketing strategy, may I become smarter by reading and learning effective ones? If people did not buy into my campaign because of the way I stood or spoke, how do I become stronger and carry myself more confidently when communicating? If I tried everything and I still have to cancel my meetings, how do I become wiser and stop feeling frustrated over something that cannot be changed? A month after that night, we had our first workshop attracting 116 “interested” on Facebook and were featured on Daily Bruins. The turnout eventually was 12, which was a 500% growth over the old average (2 participants).

I went roller skiing the other day. I haven’t done this risky sport for years. The long line of people waiting surrounded the small rink, watching and laughing as beginners sliding and falling all over the place. As I was in the line with some friends, for a moment the old dread and distrust sunk in. What if I fall in front of everyone? What if, even worse, I keep falling in front of everyone? But suddenly, the steady warmth began to spread across my chest. Replacing the old feelings was the excitement to get out there and be in front of people, the excitement to try and discover through all the stumbles and scrambles. I know, right then, that something has forever shifted in me.