Relax, Ego. I Got This.

I have been wanting to write about this topic for a while.  And I certainly talk about and think about the problem with our egos a lot.

Recently, I did the Doing Politics Better podcast.  At the end of each episode, the hosts ask their guest if they had a magic wand, what is one thing they would change in the North Carolina legislature.

I should have probably said that I would put Democrats in the majority and give myself a gavel on the healthcare committee and start making transformative change (Lord knows we need healthcare reform!).  But I didn’t say that.

I said that I would change the fact that too many people in the legislature let their egos lead.

And that’s true.

I recently went open water swimming with a friend that I admire and respect.  And I was a wreck. It was the second time that I had been open water swimming, the first time with this person, and I did not feel prepared.

I have been swimming since February trying hard to be ready for this triathlon.  And despite all of my work I was very much feeling like I should be better at this than I am.

But I’m not.  I had intended to talk to my friend ahead of our scheduled swim about how much anxiety I was feeling.  Not that I might drown, or not be able to swim across the lake.  But I was definitely worried about being judged.

I forgot to discuss this with my friend and on the morning we were meeting to swim I was a little feisty.  Not about anything in particular.  Just sharp-tongued and quick to speak.

My friend kindly told me that I was in some sort of way.

It snapped me back.  Yes, I was in some kind of way.

“Oh,” I said.  “Yes, I meant to have a conversation with you.”

I told my friend that I had some deep anxiety about swimming together.  My friend quickly concluded, correctly, that my anxiety was about being judged and reassured me that I was not.

So off we went to swim.

I stood on the beach staring out at the water, full of dread. We had talked.  I had been reassured.  And I was so nervous.

The swim actually went great.  I was slow.  But I did it. My friend waited for me a couple of times, though I had said not to.

This was actually my first attempt to open water swim in the Russian River in CA. But where I ended up stopping in my kayak wasn't very deep. It ended up being more of a open water sit.

But I had an itch to scratch.  Why had I felt so much dread?  It felt bigger than just simply being judged.  When I was a bit snappy earlier in the day, what was I trying to protect?

When I was a little girl, I learned to perform.  Perform gratefulness, be rewarded.   Perform in school, receive a reward.  Perform feelings, receive a gift.

Perform.

Performing is so different from inhabiting.  And I think for a long time, it felt hard to inhabit my life.  But I could perform.  I could work hard and achieve. I could be rewarded.  I could receive praise.  I could be impressive.

But there I stood, filled with dread, looking at the open water in front of me. I was about to be exposed.  There would be no performing.  I would have to inhabit the fullness of what a weak swimmer I am, despite months of effort.  And it was about to be on display for my friend.

And my ego so badly wanted to control what was about to happen.  To protect itself from embarrassment and exposure.  To remind my friend that I really am impressive at so many other things.

It has been such a journey learning to say to my ego, “Relax.”  She really hates being told to relax!

It’s taken me the last 14 years of becoming. Becoming self-aware.  Allowing myself to be vulnerable and speak honestly about my fears, my perceptions, my truths.  Being curious.  And learning how to inhabit the fullness of myself with permission to feel everything.

The problem with our egos is that sometimes they don’t tell us what’s real.  Sometimes they do.  But they do want to assign meaning to things that may not deserve it.  They work so hard to protect a perception of ourselves.  And sometimes (a lot of times) those perceptions are based on beliefs that were given to or created in us when we were children.

Perform. Be impressive. Take care of your family members’ feelings because you’re the only one that can.

It has taken me such a long time to peel and peel and peel.  And I am not even close to done.

Just like exposing myself to the open water and allowing myself to be exposed as potentially not impressive, the only way I’ve learned how to listen to, understand, and eventually set my ego aside is to practice.  Expose it.  Be curious.  What is the feeling telling me and why? Is there more?  And yes, sometimes it isn’t that deep.  And sometimes it very much is.

But the times that I’ve left my ego in charge, I get jammed up. I rescue people from their work and responsibilities.  I take on too much, and I end up leading from a place of fear, worried that I won’t be impressive or that I won’t be able to control the outcome. (Spoiler alert:  we don’t actually have that much control over most things!)

My goal as a CEO and as a legislator isn't to get rid of my ego. I'm not sure that's possible, and frankly, mine seems particularly committed to sticking around.  But she doesn’t get to be the loudest voice in the room.  And she doesn’t get the gavel.  She can relax.  She can take a seat.  That way I can really listen and hear what’s being said in the room.  And what’s not.

I’m finally learning, after years of leadership work, how to put that into practice in my personal life.

That day at the water, my ego was loud. Don't get in the water. You're going to embarrass yourself. This person is going to see that you aren't as good at this as you should be. Protect yourself.

But I had said what I was afraid of. My fears had been received with kindness and grace. And I knew that whatever happened in that water, I could handle it.

Slow didn't have to mean anything more than slow. Struggling didn't have to mean anything more than struggling.

I didn't have to perform. I just had to swim.

Relax, Ego. I got this.

And I got in the water.