It's not a matter of life or death... but it feels like it is.

Even after nine years and 8 months of this practice, being faced with the blank page still carries some fear.

The knowledge that I am going to arrive, and open myself to what wants to be written, and share it with the world.

All the thoughts are still there: ‘that idea isn’t interesting enough’, ‘you haven’t thought enough about that idea’, ‘maybe you’re too tired to write today’.

But it’s not the same kind of fear it used to be.

As I’ve written before, when it’s not a matter of life or death, you’re never short of content.

When it’s not a matter of life or death, there’s always another lead to reach out to.

When it’s not a matter of life or death, it doesn’t matter if the prospective client says yes or no.

But the strange thing is, when we find ourselves stressed, stuck or trapped… it almost always is a matter of life or death.

At least to a part of you.

Sometimes, inspired by a training I took years ago, if a client is really wrestling with something, I’ll ask them: ‘In this situation, what’s most at risk for you?’

Then when they answer, I’ll say, ‘Ok, if that happens [‘that’ is the thing that they said is most at risk for them], what’s most at risk for you?’

And when they answer, I’ll say, ‘Ok, if that happens, what’s most at risk for you?’

Usually, by the third answer, we get something truly existential. (And if it doesn’t happen in the third answer, it always does with a few more.)

‘My identity won’t mean anything any more.’

‘I’ll be alone.’

‘I won’t know who I am any more.’

These things, these are life and death.

If I cease to be who I am, then I don’t exist any more.

If I’m alone, then - for 99.99% of the existence of modern humans - I probably die.

And somtimes they just say, ‘Well, it sounds a bit silly, but I’m afraid I’ll die.’

I always feel like I’m cheating a bit, as a coach, when I make this move because - almost uniquely in coaching - I know what they’re going to say in the end. I know somewhere in here is something existential.

But it still catches me off guard when it comes.

When the relatively inconsequential (rationally, at least) event, which has the leader or entrepreneur wrestling with their thinking, turns out to be about life and death.

Sometimes I laugh because it does come - the punch line happens. And it catches me off guard because although I know it’s coming, the perfect unique way that the existential risk connects to the human in front of me is both ingeniuous and tragic.

A part of this person is afraid that if this sales meeting goes wrong, or if they are direct in the way they want to manage the underperforming staff member, or if they take a wrong step with the unpredictable senior leader then… they’ll die.

For the leader, seeing this is very meaningful.

By asking these questions, we do the Subject-Object Move: we make this existential fear an object they can see, rather than a hidden driver they are subject to.

And suddenly, they have the power to choose.

Just that little bit more.

We get to really honour that part of them, together. We get to respect it, and thank it, and love it. (And love, remember, is a transformational practice.)

And when we do that, sometimes that part of them gets to relax.

That’s a deep way to do identity work.

To relax the grip that the fear has on you.

To show it that this time, it isn’t actually life or death.

No single mistake you make here, no misstep, will result in the end of your life, or even in the end of life as you know it.

In fact, to almost everyone in the world, it’ll hardly be noticeable.

An old friend of mine a long time ago rang me from the other side of the world. He had made a big deal of going travelling, of the adventure he was setting out on. But he wasn’t enjoying it. He wanted to come home.

‘No one will remember this in a few months,’ I said.

It didn’t feel like that for him: it felt like a risk of humiliation almost worth spending months more and many hundreds or thousands of pounds in misery.

But it wasn’t life or death.

He could just do what he wanted to do.

This rumbling with the underlying existential fear is a powerful way of doing growth work.

So is showing up, facing it down and finding through the experience of your life that you don’t die.

And it doesn’t even have to take 9 years and 8 months.

Usually, when you step forward with courage, the confidence comes soon after.

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PS My new book, The Power to Choose: Finding Calm and Connection in a Complex World, is out now! Get your copy here: https://geni.us/powertochoose

This is the latest in a series of articles written using the 12-Minute Method: write for twelve minutes, proof read once with tiny edits and then post online.