Your weekly poem: LIFE DOESN’T FRIGHTEN ME

Your weekly poem: LIFE DOESN’T FRIGHTEN ME

by | Jun 27, 2026 | Career, Coaching, Inspirational, Poem, Transitions

🌿 Your weekly poem: Life doesn’t frighten me—or how to slay your dragons

With so many people on the market looking for a job or to reinvent their career, I’ve decided to start relating my weekly poems to the topic of career transitions; hoping that some of you can find inspiration and solace in them as you journey on.

🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away…

LIFE DOESN’T FRIGHTEN ME by Maya Angelou 🌿

🌻 Life Doesn’t Frighten Me
Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
Life doesn’t frighten me at all

Mean old Mother Goose
Lions on the loose
They don’t frighten me at all

Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn’t frighten me at all.

I go boo
Make them shoo
I make fun
Way they run
I won’t cry
So they fly
I just smile
They go wild

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Tough guys fight
All alone at night
Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

Panthers in the park
Strangers in the dark
No, they don’t frighten me at all.

That new classroom where
Boys all pull my hair
(Kissy little girls
With their hair in curls)
They don’t frighten me at all.

Don’t show me frogs and snakes
And listen for my scream,
If I’m afraid at all
It’s only in my dreams.

I’ve got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all.

Life doesn’t frighten me at all. 🌻

— Maya Angelou, 1993

🪴 Angelou takes the voice of a child, inviting a light-hearted tone to a serious subject: fear.

There are two ways to read this poem:

1) As a children’s poem, meant to give heart to our children and help them deal with their imaginary and not-so-imaginary fears. In fact, the poem was published as a picture book, illustrated by Jean-Michel Basquiat (link in comments 👇🏽). Although, to be honest, I find Basquiat’s illustrations so unsettling, I’m not sure the book was truly ever meant for children…

2) As a poem for all ages, whereby each stanza is a metaphor for us to explore.

Today, I’d like to offer you one possible way to explore this poem from the perspective of someone in the midst of a job search or career transition, hoping it can offer you solace, and maybe even some courage to journey on.

Angelou starts by listing some of the things she (or her inner child) fears:

🌱 Shadows on the wall. Big ghosts in a cloud.

I interpret these as the shadows and ghosts of our own heart:

  • Our own self-doubts.
  • The parts of ourselves we’ve rejected or hidden, for fear we may no longer be accepted or loved.
  • Those hopes and dreams we used to carry on our sleeves and that are now relegated to a back pocket at best, if not written on the wall of a deep, dark well even we have forgotten how to access.
🌱 Noises down the hall. Bad dogs barking loud.

The noises barking loud in our heads. Those incessant what-ifs that trickle down our mind, one drop at a time, like a broken tap that won’t shut off…

  • What if I never find another job?
  • What if people can’t see what I’m capable of beyond what I’m already known for?
  • What if every rejection letter is a third-party confirmation of my lack of worth?
  • What if my skills are obsolete?
  • What if my partner no longer wants to be with me?
  • What if my kids no longer respect me being jobless for so long?

And yet, even then, Angelou reassures us: Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

No explanation yet as to why, she keeps going…

🌱 Mean old Mother Goose. Lions on the loose. Dragons breathing flame. Panthers in the park. Strangers in the dark. Boys all pull my hair. Show me frogs and snakes and listen for my scream.

Each one of those could represent a particular challenge when searching for a new job or seeking a new career:

  • The job search that feels like looking for a needle in a haystack, only to have LinkedIn point out 100+ people have applied two days after publication.
  • The application processes that took hours to fill out—only to be ghosted at the end.
  • The time and energy spent preparing for an interview, a business case, a case study—only to be told the position has been cancelled, a hiring freeze is now in effect, or an internal candidate has “miraculously” been found.
  • The unbearable silence after you thought you really clicked with that manager and team.
  • The standard rejection letter that might as well have read “not interested for not good enough”.
  • The flowery rhetoric of “we hire for potential” and “transferrable skills”—only to find out they hired someone who’s been doing the job for the past 12 years.
  • The predators who publish fake jobs just to harvest your data.
  • The so-called “career experts” who probably never recruited or worked in HR a day in their life, but are more than happy to share false information—feeding on your fears to fill their pockets.
  • And… and… and…

So, understandably, you might start losing hope, taking rejections personally, doubting yourself, your skills, your worth. And yet, Angelou continues to claim:

Life doesn’t frighten me at all.

 She still does not yet reveal why she isn’t frightened, but she does reveal some of her strategies for handling fear:

🌱 I go boo
Make them shoo
I make fun
Way they run
I won’t cry
So they fly
I just smile
They go wild

She calls their bluff.
She uses humour.
She doesn’t let them get to her.
She brushes things off.

Each one of these strategies is also available to you. Only you hold the power of your mind and your imagination.

And then she finally reveals to us WHY she isn’t afraid:

🌱 I’ve got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.

Now, you might say: “But I have no magic charm”. You do!

You are not your role, and your self-worth is not dependent on your job title or the company you worked for.

No one can strip you of your skills, knowledge, experience, talents, and know-how.
No one can strip you of your personality, your quirks, and your unique way of being in the world.
No one can strip you of your imagination, your ability to learn, and to bounce back.

Your magic charm is your inner strength and your personal source of courage.

The spirit is indomitable.

Your spirit is indomitable.

📌 So, here’s a question for you: what, or who, is your source of courage?

Maybe it’s a personal or spiritual belief.
Maybe it’s religion.
Maybe it’s a community you belong to.
Maybe it’s a person or persons who care about you deeply.

Whatever your source of courage, now is the time to reach out!

The stories we tell ourselves matter. They can build us up, or pull us down. And when they pull down, you can either find the strength within you to dust yourself off and get up again. Or you ask for help.

Foolishness is refusing to ask for help out of pride, or a false sense of shame or guilt.

Courage is saying:

I am willing to risk ridicule and failure so that I may experience this day with newness and freshness — Zinker, J., Creative Process in Gestalt Therapy, 1978, p. 3.

As for that ocean—

Maybe Angelou did not need to breathe because she mastered the skill of apnea diving. Or maybe she had a tank full of oxygen ready to use. Whatever the reason, she is steadfast and confident that “she can walk that ocean floor”, and so can you!

The ocean might be deep, dark, and full of unknowns. But you’ve survived it before, and you can trust that you will again. And even if this is your first time diving in deep seas, know that many have survived it before you.

You can face the ocean with a defeatist mind: blaming others, victimising yourself, finding fault in every path or possibility, telling yourself it’s never been done before, or that you’ve been told it’s impossible. Or you can keep trying, experimenting, collecting data, and casting nets.

Manage what you can control and let go of what you can’t, trusting that you are part of a much wider field, where other forces are at play.

You are not alone. And as long as you hold on to the belief that things are in motion beyond what you can see, and that every net you cast holds possibility—the timing of what comes to fruition is no longer yours to control alone—and there is great solace in that.

Man is no island. Mankind is a highly sophisticated root system—a Soul Wide Web of sorts: interconnected, interdependent, woven like a tapestry.

🪴 Good luck with your job search or career transition! And if you want to cast a net my way, feel free to do so. I’m happy to support where I can.

🦋 Happy Weekend everyone! 🦋

With love,
Dina 🫶🏽

Resources:

  • Check out Angelou’s poem as a picture book on Amazon.
  • This week’s song is NOT AFRIAD, cover by Red Village (EXPLICIT version): 

The tyranny of the pursuit of happiness and purpose

The tyranny of the pursuit of happiness and purpose

by | Jan 4, 2026 | Coaching, Inspirational, Mental wellbeing, Transitions

I see many posts in my feed lately on how to help you “be more happy”, “find your purpose”, and urge you to “pursue your IKIGAI”—that magical intersect between what you love to do, can do, the world needs, and gets you paid… that ONE purpose in life that “can set you free”… but, does it really?

What if that’s all a mirage… another pop-psychology soundbite regurgitated to keep you blind to what already is…
… trapped in a fixed destination: the tyrannical pursuit of that ONE purpose, 
… stuck chasing unicorns in some impending future,
forgetting to live in the moment.

So, what’s my proposal?

Don’t pursue happiness…
or purpose…
pursue meaning instead.

The beauty of meaning, as opposed to purpose, is that it’s not something you chase or declare once and for all. It’s something that emerges and evolves—
as you live your life, 
as you engage with the world around you, 
as you embrace the people around you.

Meaning is found in life itself… in every moment of every day.
And because meaning is ever so present, it seems fleeting.

You know how, when there’s a constant repeating sound in your environment, you stop hearing it? I remember, when I lived in Egypt, my bedroom overlooked a train station, and there was a long loud train whistle at least every 45 minutes or so. So, I stopped hearing it, and I would only notice it when my friends on the phone would complain about that loud long whistle in the background…

That’s what I think happens to meaning.

We don’t see it anymore, and therefore think it’s missing from our lives. Not because it’s not there, but because our mind is constantly engaged in that hypothetical future—the one that’s holding our salvation, finally fulfilling all of our hopes and dreams, and “sets us free”.

So, we get lost in that futuristic maze…
… start chasing that next dopamine kick,
and numb ourselves with soundbites that shine like diamonds but are hollow inside.

To be clear, I’m not suggesting we stop dreaming or hoping all together…

I’m suggesting that we focus on recognising meaning in what already is, first…
… in the circumstances we are already in,
… the roles we already play,
… the people who are already in our lives.

I make a living supporting those who find themselves in a place of transition. Sometimes that transition is forced upon them by an employer or life in general. But many of them choose to pursue something different that can hopefully fill a sense of void or confusion or longing…

And my job is to help them first understand “what is”, so that they can step into “what can be” with much more clarity and, dare I say, purpose. But that purpose is not the same as your IKIGAI… It’s a sharpened perspective…

Here’s a final thought on meaning.

When we pursue it, it doesn’t promise eternal bliss or comfort… in fact, it can get terribly uncomfortable—at times even painful. But it does promise us this: drive, energy, passion, determination, stamina, resilience to walk the mile… a sense of being “whole”… and, if we can pay enough attention to its sound, in the “here and now”, it can give us wings to explore the unchartered… and literally “set us free”…

Having said all that,

if meaning is still not enough for you, and you really, really, want to understand your ONE purpose in life—here’s one for you:

LOVE.

That’s our one and only purpose: to learn how to love one another—unconditionally. AGAPE—that’s our purpose.

How we get there?

That’s life.
Your life. My life. Our life.
And the meaning we make of it—
every moment of every day.

Here’s to a meaningful 2026!

PS: No AI has been used or harmed in the writing of this post. All em-dashes and stream of consciousness are my own.

Recommended resources: 

On becoming a coach: my interview with the AC

On becoming a coach: my interview with the AC

by | Jun 10, 2024 | Coaching, Podcast, Transitions

August last year, I had the pleasure of being interviewed by the very talented Agni Skafidas on behalf of the Association for Coaching (AC) on becoming a coach, and I figured it was about time I shared the audio podcast and transcript on my blog! 🙂

Transitions are the chrysalis from which new life can form…
… and we are not meant to go through them on our own.

If you are looking to become a coach, or are in some kind of a career transition of your own, I hope this interview can support you as you try to find your own answers. In it, I talk about my own career transition from HR Manager to Coach – founding Agape Heart & Soul, what supported me on my journey, and how I found my “voice” as a coach.

And if I can be of service to you, or if you’d like to learn more about my journey, please do reach out to me! I’d love to connect.

Listen to the interview

To view and download the interview transcript, click here.

For LinkedIn users

For those of you on LinkedIn, below you find the original LinkedIn post, where you can access the full audio clip and the transcript as well.

Feel free to comment, like, or repost.

Association for Coaching LinkedIn post screenshot

Association for Coaching LinkedIn post screenshot 

    What’s been your experience with career transitions?

    How did you know it was time for a change?
    How did you go about the change (if at all)?
    What or who helped you along the way?

    Career transitions are unique to every person – so do share your experience in the comments section below. I know it will enrich and be of benefit to others. I, for one, would love to learn about your experience and insights.

    Recommended resources: 

    “You will never make it without anti-depressants” she said. (part I)

    “You will never make it without anti-depressants” she said. (part I)

    by | Jan 20, 2021 | Inspirational, Mental wellbeing, Spiritual, Transitions

    “You will never make it without antidepressants.” 

    These were my psychiatrist’s “words of encouragement” during our first session, when I uttered, between my tears, that I wanted to try to get through this without medication.

    The five years prior to this meeting had been anything but a walk in the park.
    I was the mother of a sensitive baby (then toddler) with big needs, and spent three years barely getting three consecutive hours of sleep.
    My husband was going through his own mid-life crisis.
    And I found myself at work sandwiched between a rock and a hard place.
    I felt unappreciated, unsupported, unloved. Crushed under the weight of daily responsibilities, and, in many ways, alone.
    So, what did I do? I kept going. When my friends and family asked me how I was doing, I would paint a big smile on my face and say: “I’m OK.”

    But I wasn’t. My soul was weighing heavy with pain.

    At some point, my body, heart and soul decided to take over the reins. If I was not going to pull those breaks and change something, they were going to do it for me. I found myself crying all the time; incapable of making the smallest of decisions; overwhelmed by everything.

    Cooking. Noise. Music. TV. My own child.

    The simplest of tasks, like sorting my books or shopping at the nearby supermarket felt like a mountain waiting to be climbed.


    Source: quotevill.com

     

    Reaching out

    My family doctor said I was having a burn-out and needed to be hospitalised. “I don’t want to be away from my child”, I sobbed.
    “I understand, she is still little”, she said. “You may want to consider a day-clinic then. Here’s a sick-leave note for your work. And here’s another note for your health insurance”.

    My health insurance said it was a depression. Hospitalisation would be the easiest, they proclaimed. “Easiest for whom?!”, I wondered. A day-clinic stay, they explained, would involve a whole set of bureaucratic procedures which may take months. “But I want to be with my family”.

    They didn’t care. Procedures come first.

    I knew deep inside what I needed… and I knew I was not going to get it through State agents or health institutions. I needed to muster whatever energy I still had left in me and build myself my own individual web of support.

    My initial emergency helpline, to get me through life one day at a time (sometimes one hour at a time), were my parents. With God’s grace, they moved from Egypt to Switzerland, two weeks after my mental collapse, into the apartment literally next door (same building, same floor). Say what you will, but I know I have God to thank for this nothing short of a miracle.

    My second helpline was my psychotherapist, who was a wholesome, supportive and compassionate soul.

    But my health insurance agent struck again: “We can’t pay for a psychotherapist. We only recognise psychiatrists”.

     

    A big mistake

    So, I left my trusted therapist, and poured my heart out to my new psychiatrist so she can tell me that medication was my only way out.

    “They’re not a big deal”, she said, handing me some pharmaceutical pamphlet. But I knew from my counselling work that this wasn’t true. “I don’t want to take antidepressants” I repeated. “They often don’t work or act as a placebo, and they can have nasty side-effects. I want to try to do this without medication”.

    “You will never make it without antidepressants.” she asserted.

    I left her office gutted, feeling even more down than when I entered her office, dragging my lead-heavy legs back home.
    She wouldn’t even look me in the eye. The whole time I was pouring my heart out, she kept looking at her watch. 

    Upon my second visit to her office, sensing her uninterested gaze upon mine, I mustered all my courage and said:

    “I will not be coming back here anymore.”

    Her eyes widened: “Oh… that’s quite a surprise”. Really?  “I was counting on us working together over a longer period of time”. No, thank you! I’d rather use up my savings than be at your and the health insurance’s mercy.


    Source: Pinterest, saved by Bloom Taliercio

     

    Carving my way out.

    It took me four months to regain a new sense of balance.

    With the loving support of my parents, the compassionate ear of my therapist, with my husband and daughter by my side, encouraging friends who forced me out of my shell, and my faith in God.

    I knew I needed a daily structure of some sort, so I don’t sink in the shifting sands of my muddled mind, wallowing in old miseries. So I read up on what type of activities clinics do, and created my own schedule, guided by what inspires me, gives me energy and a sense of purpose.

    Feeling alive & creative

    I started exercising in the morning.

    Took up a painting class. And one of my friends coaxed me to sign up to a dance class she was visiting. Both of these activities allowed me to give form and colour to my pain and the hope I had within me. It was cathartic.

    Re-igniting old passions

    I started writing children’s books again, and joined a wonderfully supportive critique group online.

    And honouring my love to learn, I joined all kinds of online courses on a variety of topics that interest me. Parenting courses. Writing courses. Coaching courses. Psychology courses. Happiness courses. Through these courses, I was able to connect to fellow students, their experiences and stories. Some of them have now become dear friends.

    Gaining a new sense of purpose

    I volunteered a couple of hours a week with the Salvation Army in the kitchen, serving lunch to school children and washing dishes. It felt good to be part of a supportive community, while feeling “useful” again.

    Food for the soul

    I researched silent retreats in my area, and found a beautiful home for nuns that opens to the public for silent days of prayer. So I joined them, and have been going there ever since. Contemplating. Chanting. Reflecting. Praying. Spending time in nature. Simply “being” in the silent warmth of other yearning souls. Seeking peace.

    I joined an elderly church group for Bible study, whose members filled my heart with love and companionship, in the only way 70-year olds can.

    And I created a “sacred” corner in my room. I covered my shrine with a cloth imprinted with Jesus’ picture, holding a benevolent look towards me. And I placed on it pictures of people I love, memorabilia that transposed me to a happier time, a cross and my Bible.
    This corner became my retreat every morning and evening. I prayed. I cried. I talked to God about my pain. Reproached Him for allowing my suffering, begging Him to take it away.

    He did,
    eventually.

    But more importantly, I know today, more than ever, that He guided and supported me through it all, so I can use that pain to metamorphose my life to what it is today.

    I also made it a ritual to walk to a beautiful nearby Catholic church every day, sit inside the shrine (there was nobody else there), and read my Bible. It filled me with a sense of peace and calm, to visit my Father’s house and read His word in perfect stillness.

    “Mon âme se repose en paix sur Dieu seul,
    de lui vient mon salut.
    Oui, sur Dieu seul mon âme se repose,
    se repose en paix.”

    It was hard! 

    Please don’t get me wrong. None of this was easy! Getting myself out of the house to get to any one of those activities was excruciatingly hard.

    Part of me just wanted to crawl into bed and never have to get up. I felt like I was being sucked into a dark cold hole, a bottomless pit. It’s scary when you are taken hostage by your own mind… and you don’t know how to make it stop or how to escape it. But I had to try… Whenever my mind wondered away into a dark alley or headed towards a cliff, I would either:

    Get busy – with ANYTHING – reading, going to my parents’, cooking, exercising, taking a shower, …
    Or
    I would repeat a Bible verse over and over again. These were my favourite:

    “Get behind Me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to Me. For your thoughts are not of the things of God, but the things of men.” (Matthew 16:23, Berean Literal Bible).

    “The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear?” (Psalm 27:1)

    And Psalm 91.

    One thing was certain, whenever I fell into one of my “dark episodes”, I needed to keep on moving. I needed to dust myself off and find a way out. Wallowing in that dark spot was not an option! For I knew if I did, I may end up losing myself in a “no man’s land”, with no return ticket.

    Finding allies

    My parents were critical allies for me, as were my listening/empathy partners. If you are curious what a listening/empathy partner is, check out this article and this one :). While the context of these articles is parenting, the principles explained can be used in any situation.

    My husband was also of great support to me. It was difficult for him at that time to support me emotionally (he had his own “shit” to sort through, as he would say). But he was my rock: caring for our toddler pretty much single handedly; taking all necessary decisions so I didn’t have to face its oppressive pressure; and pushing me to get out of the house…

    I don’t think I wanna go to the dance class today, I would mutter, curling up on our living room sofa, sinking deeper in my dark well.

    “Of course you’re going! You love it once you’re there, don’t you”?

    Yes, but I’m not sure I have the energy to get out. And it’s cold, was my excuse.

    “Get dressed and go. You’ll love it. HY will also be there. And you don’t need to worry about K. (our daughter). I’m here”.

    With a big sigh, I would lift my heavy legs off the couch, and drag my lifeless body out of the house.

    But once I was in the dancing studio, HY would greet me with her big smile and we’d chat. And then J., our dance teacher, would show up, armed with his enthusiasm, positivity and, let’s face it, an incredibly toned body!
    After some chit-chat, he would play the most heavenly music by Max Richter, while guiding our bodies to express themselves in a way that gave wings to my soul. Tears often came streaming down, as I gave shape to my pain and released it through movement.

    I felt alive again, quickly wiping away my tears lest anyone notice.

     

    Re-building my world

    It took me four months.

    They were the hardest four months of my life. But I made it out of the pit.

    One day I woke up, and those emotions that laid so heavy on my chest felt all of a sudden lighter. I started to feel joy again. I started to make plans. I also knew I needed to make some changes in my life, starting with my job. I needed to learn to let people in. Give myself permission to share my needs and say “no” or “later”.

    Little by little, I re-built my world… a new world… with a new sense of purpose and confidence that all things will work together for the good.

    I still had ups and downs.

    Some days were better than others.

    But all in all, I knew I was on the right track, and that I will make it. Not because I’m especially strong or special. Sure, I refused to give in to the voice of despair thundering in my head, and I reached out for help. But I was also fortunate to have compassionate people around me, willing to support me, challenge me, and push me when I needed a push. And most importantly, my Faith in God and His healing words, helped sustain me as I re-built my world.


    Brave – Winnie the Pooh and Piglet.
    Source: Pinterest, saved by Marie-Louise Jaeger

     

    Moving on

    It’s been exactly 5 years since my burnout. And I pass by that psychiatrist’s office every day on my way to work.

    And when I do, part of me wonders how it would be like if I were to walk up to her in her office and say:

    “Remember me? Probably not… Five years ago, you sat here and told me that I would never make it through without antidepressants. Well, here I am to tell you that I did!
    Just because you wear a white coat, doesn’t mean you know it all! You sure as hell didn’t know me!
    Curiosity and Humility can go a long way.
    Listening to your patients with genuine interest can go a long way.
    Exploring with them the resources they have in themselves and around them can go a long way.
    Showing up as a genuine human being can go a very long way.
    Please don’t ever doubt the resourcefulness of your patients again, no matter how desperate or “broken” they may seem. Your job is to lift them up, not crush them down!”

    Maybe one day, I will. Meanwhile, I’m just gonna keep on moving.

    Recommended resources: