I’ve spent a lot of days since the start of my independent writing enterprise being afraid of a lot of things. Sometimes it’s rejection, sometimes it’s success. I’ve complained about a lot of pretty trivial things and neglected to pay attention to the big, good things in my life. In light of some of the conversations I’ve had recently, I realize I have a lot to be thankful for. I don’t have any drama or conflict, and there are zero hinderances in my path. Yet somehow I can find a way to stymie any and all progress, then complain about it. Point blank, it’s time to do something new.
No more of these what-ifs giving nightmares and making me feel anxious. I just gotta go for it, figure it out, and think about being scared later. There’s no space for that right now. I’d like to be able to tell you what all this fabulous fearlessness will look like in practice, but I don’t know that right now. I suppose the picture will develop as I go along; I’ve got to have faith that it will.
Honestly, what have I got to lose?