Frog in My Throat

Sarah tries to tell you something. 

IG: @sarahonpurpose

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You've probably heard or used this common idiom, I have a frog in my throat, which simply means the temporary inability to speak clearly. Temporary can mean moments, or in my case, it can mean years. If you ever felt like you had a frog in your throat, well, stick with me, because I feel pretty strongly that I know what to do next. There really is no better way than that to describe the search to find my spark, my voice, and myself. But the funny thing is, I learned probably one of my biggest lessons just from listening to actual frogs. It really isn't an exaggeration when I say I have them to thank for accessing my voice again after a long time away. So yeah, as an ode to them, this episode is called Frog in My Throat. Let me clear my throat. On the one hand, they're all the things I'm afraid to say out loud because, uh oh, what if people will get offended, which is highly likely, or mad, or think I'm trying too hard. And at the same time, there's this constriction that comes from thinking nobody cares what I have to say or what I think in the first place. My voice didn't know where it belonged, in or out. And the biggest lie I ever told myself was that it didn't matter. Not long ago, I spent a couple days at a cabin in the woods, which happened to be on a sweet little lake. I chose it because I was looking for some peace and quiet. Well, it turns out it was anything but the entire time I was there, a corral of what sounded like hundreds of frogs were just going full throttle. I've been to concerts and stadiums that were more subdued. And at first I was like, hey, excuse me, would you mind STFU? And they were like, no, thanks. Well, I've learned to recognize a teaching moment from Mama NH. It turns out what they were doing was offering a masterclass and using your voice. Hear me when I tell you they were going at it like life depended on it. Because it does. They gave it everything they got, and then they would all pause, and one would clear its throat like this, and they'd start all over again, simply to say, I am here. I am here, I am still here. This is what we're here for until we're not. They decided to go all in, and damn right they were gonna speak on it. That's life being itself on purpose. I noticed everything was doing the same thing, showing up, offering their voices in their own way. Trees, flowers, birds, bees. How rude of me to not RSVP to life's generous invitation. So anyway, they were really going for it. They were really trying, and then all I could do was laugh. The universe truly does have an excellent sense of humor sometimes because the gold was right there the whole time. The thing I was worried about for so long was that throwing my voice into the mix would make me look like I was trying too hard, that people would think Sarah Warman is a try hard. I got so caught up in feeling like I had all these things to say, but I didn't have anything to offer anyone. No perfectly packaged pitch or offering. But to my delight, what if all I had to do was try? And what if my part in helping you find your voice, your spark, and yourself is not to tell you how to do it, but to help you try to. And times I tried for all the wrong reasons. Now I think I understand what it means to try for the right ones. I can handle it now. Listening to the frogs didn't make me want to be a frog or sound like a frog, okay, that's dumb. But what it did do was it made me want to be me to sound like me. And that's what a strong, clear signal can do for us. And maybe your thing isn't about using your actual voice, but maybe, just maybe, you're holding something back that would make you feel like you're fully participating in your own life. So I want to tell you some things that I've discovered about trying. Most people never try. Once you do, you're already ahead of the game. Not all tries are created equally. You have the, well, I tried, guess it's not going to happen, nothing ever works out for me, martyr style of trying, which isn't really trying. The, oh, I would love to try that someday, try, but wanting to do it and doing it are not the same. And then there's the, but I'm trying, try, which is busying ourselves with everything but trying and getting lost in the paperwork of life. There's the waiting to try until you're ready, which is legit, but not if ready means you're only willing to try if there is a guaranteed successful outcome. When you can be assured that everything will be easy, predictable, and smooth. Ain't gonna happen, sis. Because the truth is you might fail. You might not get it right on your first or second or third try. Trying is experimenting. It's experimenting with so many unpredictable factors, and only one of those factors is you. So you can also try more than once, often with the same thing, over and over again. Sometimes it can be the act of trying something that makes you realize what the thing is you actually want to be trying instead. See, it's an experiment. Maybe it's the starting that brings the clarity, not the other way around. And here's another thing about trying. This one I know deep down. You know what the thing is that you're not trying. It bugs you. It doesn't leave you alone. That's how you know it's the one to try. You can try and ignore it, but it's like, I don't know, pooping your pants and then just sitting in it because you don't feel like getting up, but you can definitely still smell it. And here's the big one. Maybe you heard people say, just try it, and you fill in the blank here. Just try it. It's no big deal. It doesn't matter. But that's the thinking that gets us all in trouble. If it doesn't matter, why try it in the first place? And I'm not talking about the kind of trying where it's like, I don't know, getting bangs. That doesn't matter. The kind of trying I'm talking about here is where something is at stake for you. Like a piece of your soul is on the line. And maybe we have to try a lot of things that don't matter to find the ones that do. But I think if we're really, really honest with ourselves, the things that really do matter are often the ones we're most afraid to try. The idea of trying can be excruciating. No wonder we're afraid when we want to wrap risk up in a neat little bow and mitigate all of our vulnerabilities. We want a promised and certain outcome, and we know it doesn't exist. Well, here's where it gets interesting, and I think I've been missing the point all these years. It's not getting it or succeeding that gives us all the life force we're looking for. It's the trying. Without those moments of what I like to call sacred struggle, we're cutting off all the vital supply. But trying hard also isn't the goal. Trying is equal parts effort and surrender. It's the space right in between. I think it was Picasso that said something like every act of creation is also an act of destruction. That's true in art, but the same applies whether you're making art or not. Something has to end before it begins. It can even be an old thought pattern or process, maybe a life that doesn't fit anymore. But the coolest thing is, is you don't have to know how to try to try. Trying is something we already have coded at the cellular level. Nothing would exist without that innate ability. Our heart and our spirits know-how. It's just our dumb brains that need to catch up. Trying is a thank you note for being alive. And you know, it kind of breaks my heart how long I waited, how long I waited to be a person that tries, how long I was a person that didn't try. But here's another thing. You can take breaks, just like the frogs. You can clear your throat and you can start again. So what matters? Self-expression, love, self-respect, friendship, connection, community. I don't have to know what it is that matters to you to know that it's important. Trying is personal. You can set the pace. The sense of urgency here is you have all the time in the world and no time to waste. They can be small things to other people, but not you. If they matter to you, they matter. Full stop. So here's what matters to me. Every time I rolled the dice and bet on myself, every time life broke my heart and somehow stitched it back together. How hard it is to let go. How we save ourselves and each other. The things life teaches me, even though I'm not always a good student. The fact that being alive is extraordinary, especially in its ordinary moments. And I don't have to tell you that holy shit, is it full of surprises? That's what I care about. And that's what matters to me. And you know something? I've always wanted to write it all down, but wanting to and trying isn't the same thing, right? Talking about it is not the same as trying. So I had to get into trying right here on this podcast to remember what it is I want to do with my voice. And it might not work out, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that it matters to me. What is life if not to devote ourselves to what matters? Otherwise, it's all kind of hopeless, right? Trying is a lot like hope. Mary Oliver says, hope, I know, is a fighter and a screamer. So my hope for both of us is that we dig a little deeper. We find what matters, and then we don't look away. We can try hard things, we can try new things, we can try scary things because we are people that try. We go all in on life because someday we're all gonna croak. Oh