Audio version:
Saying the Word Help is a Prayer
Long ago, I heard this quote: “Worrying is like praying for the worst to happen.” It landed in me like truth.
I’ve been a future caster for most of my life, someone who scans the horizon constantly, trying to anticipate every possible disaster so I can protect myself from it. The illusion of control, right? Except most things are wildly out of our control, which is absolutely terrifying when you’re wired like me. This pattern caused so much suffering and became the driving force behind my search for a way out.
Then I learned something that changed everything: when your mind takes hold of a thought, positive or negative, it runs with it full force to make it real. I started to see that every time I followed worry down its dark path, I was literally praying for the worst to happen. I was directing all my energy toward the outcome I feared most.
That’s when I knew I had to do something different.
First, I had to catch myself in the act. Easier said than done. But once I could see I was in a fear response, I could change it. That’s when I started calling in the troops, my Angels and Ancestors, and saying one simple word: help.
That’s it. Sometimes I’d say it many times. Sometimes I’d add details or a visualization of how I hoped things would unfold. But mostly, just help.
And something remarkable started to happen. Not overnight, but slowly, quietly. My body started to soften when I said that word. The tightness in my chest would ease. The spiral would slow. I was creating a new pathway, one where fear didn’t have to be the loudest voice in the room.
My nervous system began to recognize this support. To trust it. And I became braver than I ever imagined possible.
I started taking risks I would have talked myself out of before. Saying yes to opportunities that terrified me. Letting go of outcomes I couldn’t control anyway. The bicycle accident with David that could have sent me spiraling into fear? Instead became a lesson in fearless surrender. The retreat in Bali I’m leading? Never would have happened without this shift.
Here’s what I know now: Help isn’t admitting defeat. It’s opening a door. It’s remembering we were never meant to do this alone. It’s the most revolutionary act of trust I’ve ever practiced.
One word. A prayer. Everything changed.
And every time I say it, which is often, because old patterns die hard, I’m choosing faith over fear. I’m choosing to believe in support I can’t always see. I’m choosing to rest in something bigger than my worried mind.
That’s the practice. That’s the medicine. That simple, that profound.
With fearless love from my corner by the sea. ♥️
