I Want To See You Be BRAVE

I've never publically promoted music before, but the first time I heard songstress Sara Bareilles sing, "Brave," (http://youtu.be/QUQsqBqxoR4) it was a painful moment for me. Everything in the room faded; it seemed Sara and I were the only ones left. She was singing the words I had wanted to say to my daughter but didn't get a chance to. Tears ran down my face and her voice literally brought me to my knees. My daughter had just committed suicide, and while she was an extraordinarily bright and exotically beautiful girl, at age 15 her introverted personality and severely depressed brain wasn't brave enough to accept the help she'd been offered. She was so much sicker than any of us ever suspected. Sara sang, "Nothing's ganna hurt you the way the words do when they settle 'neath your skin. Kept on the inside and no sunlight, sometimes a shadow wins...maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live. Maybe one of these days you can let the light in...show me how big your brave is." Like the old Roberta Flak classic, "Killing Me Softly With His Song," my broken mother's heart was being crucified by her haunting lyrics. I've listened to the song many times since, each time marveling at Sara's genius lyrical acumen, how she crafts pieces of elegant poetry and humbly labels them "songs." Recently I heard the song "Brave" again, and was surprised when Sara showed up in my office for the second time. It was just her and I again, although this time she wasn't singing about my daughter, this time she was singing about me.

I had been worrying, which is nothing new for me. Even though I can teach clients anxiety management strategies until the cows come home, when it comes to me, I'm blind as a bat. As a Life Coach, it's an occupational hazard: I can never take my own advice. Even psychic Sylvia Browne, perhaps the most famous psychic in modern history, dispenser of predictions and sage advice, freely admitted she could never objectively see her own life or what to do about her own problems. If Sylvia couldn't, I certainly can't. I'm a special brand of worrier, though. I'll cover all my bases and then go back and check all my bases, just to make sure I really did get them covered. One of my professors good-naturedly sent me a picture of a woman biting her nails attached to the research paper I had been ceaselessly checking on, and said while I had earned one of the highest grades in class on my research, I had gotten an "F" in trusting the Universe. Ouch.

I hope you're smiling because you can relate. Recently I heard Sara's song again and it hit me at a time when I happened to be caught in the rip-tide of a worry-funnel. Caught in what you might call a "Shame Spiral." Do you know what I'm talking about? The worry builds into a storm cloud, picking up speed and before you know it it's built up so much steam that the insecurity becomes a worry funnel. It grips you in a deadly shame spiral (something like a death spiral), and down you go. On the ground once again, Sara Bareilles appears in my office. As I'm groveling on the floor she looks at me and shakes her head knowingly and says, "Say what you wanna say! And let the words fall out. Honestly, I want to see you be brave!" I thought about how my daughter kept all the words back-the secret shame of being mentally ill is what had killed her. In my mind, my daughter Moriyah showed up next to Sara, and both of them were killing me softly with their song. My office was getting a little crowded, and then like the icing on the cake, my favorite professor who scolded me showed up. In a chorus they sang: "I just wanna see you be BRAVE." I got a lump in my throat and was reminded (thanks to Sara's son) that past failures shouldn't determine our futures. Now I wanna see you be brave.

To see all of Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0