Feel Fear and Do It Anyway!

So what do I mean by "Feel Fear and Do it Anyway!"?

"Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway!" is the title of a wonderful book by Susan Jeffers that I have read more than once. In her acclaimed bestseller Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, Susan Jeffers introduced dynamic techniques for turning fear into personal power and action.

Of course I must put a link to her site here in case you were looking for her with your search and ended up here, either way I hope you get some good information from your search.

Click here to go to Susan Jeffers webpage

One of the prominent features of successful people is their ability to see situations in a way that allows them to walk through their fear to attain their goals.

There are many different kinds of fear, but here I am referring to self doubt, anxiety and the types of fears that stem from low self-esteem, preventing you from moving forward.

I have certainly wrestled with fear and acted despite it many times in my life in serious matters, but now I'd like to share one of my lighter adventures in facing fear. Sometimes you just gotta laugh!

But don't worry, I will be adding "serious stuff" on fear as well in the near future.

This happened after I got one of my very first jobs in "the big city" after leaving backwoods Maine. Below is a story of one of my adventures.

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EXCERPT FROM MY AUTOBIOGRAPHY "FIREWALKER"

I came back from the dealership that afternoon, beaming. “I did it Sis. I got a job. I’m a Detailer.”

Basically this meant I washed the cars on the lot and helped mechanics with undercoats and minor repairs. It took a while for them to get my uniform ordered so in the meantime, Roseanne’s friend Dick leant me a pair of his coveralls. Dick was over six feet tall and I had to roll the pant legs up so many times that the bulky fabric made walking feel like I’d stepped into two tires.

I cinched up the waist with a tool belt and rolled up the sleeves. The uniform sported his nametag embroidered in big letters: “Dick.” I looked like a detailer clown but still felt so excited to have finally landed a job that I didn’t care. Six dollars an hour put me in clover, able to pay my own way.

The car salesmen were truly a breed of their own. They dawdled between customers, spending long hours idly gambling at the coffee station. The paper cups had cards printed on the sides and bottom. I saw these guys drop twenty dollars a pop, betting on the cards printed on the bottom of the cups as they came out of the dispenser.

Any time a car drove onto the lot, they perked up like beasts of prey and moved stealthily to the doorway, trying unobtrusively to beat each other to the new arrival. Every so often, on the sunny days, they milled around and joked about my uniform. Sometimes I turned the hose on them for fun, just a light mist to hold them at bay.

The head mechanic was a chatterbox. He had a ruddy face, big grizzled red beard and a booming voice, often throwing out off-colored jokes that I seldom understood. I spent my days cleaning cars and doing undercoats.

While I polished a new purchase, a salesman wandered by. “I can’t believe I only made five hundred dollars on this one.” He commented. “Five hundred dollars?” I asked. “Yeah, I made fifteen hundred off the truck I sold yesterday.” I couldn’t imagine that kind of money. Though six dollars an hour was more than I had made before, I soon found that food and rent cost a lot more here.

Every weekend I collapsed on the sofa, exhausted, only to start the week again with nothing left to show for it. Finally I got up the nerve to talk to the sales manager. I took a deep breath and marched into his office. He sat behind his desk eating a corned beef sandwich.

“What do you want, kid?”

“I’d like to try my hand at selling cars.” He looked me up and down, rubbing his chin below a condescending smile.

“Darlin’, I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

I’d spent a lot of time building up the courage to ask in the first place, but in less than a minute he flat out turned me down, didn’t even give me a chance.

My next day off, I went to Goodwill and bought a twelve-dollar woolen suit, presentable enough for an interview. I brought it with me to work, slipping it on during lunch. Straightening my skirt, I walked across the street to one of our competitors. I confidently strode in the front door and asked to see the manager.

“What can I do for you, young lady?”

“Give me a job selling cars.”

“Really? Well, do you know anything about them?”

“I work across the street as a detailer. I’m learning all about them and think I’d have no trouble selling.”

He took a drag on his cigarette, giving me a long look through a plume of smoke. “If you think you can do it, you can start tomorrow. It’s purely commission; I’ll give you the standard twenty percent of gross profit.”

“Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it.”

“We’ll see…”

I crossed the street, walking straight into my boss’ office. He looked up from his coffee, rather surprised by my intrusion and professional attire.

“I have something to tell you. I quit. I went next door and got a job selling cars. They’ll give me twenty percent.”

He coughed, then laughed out loud. “Well, well, well. I’ll be. And I thought you were too sweet and innocent to sell cars. I must admit, you clean up quite nicely, ‘Dick.’ Tell you what, if you were devious enough to sneak behind my back and get hired by the competition, I’ll hire you to sell cars for us instead, and up the ante. How does twenty-five percent sound?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I figured he would be angry with my sneaky tactics and here he was rewarding me.

“So I can start tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.”

Into the snake pit I went. Wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, I came in the next morning and set up shop. The salesmen were amazed that I had joined the ranks.

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So there you go, feel fear and do it anyway!

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear." Mark Twain

Mastering The Power Of The Subconcioius Mind Fear and Creativity Attacking Fear Head On!