In a veritable masterpiece of cliche-ridden advice, I recently told a friend to be bold and take a leap.
This sounds good. It would sound better if I wasn’t a total fraud, one who’s abominably negligent in heeding her own advice.
Why take a leap when you can take a nap? Why be bold when you can watch Downton Abbey? Why build something when you can play with the cat?
Yes, sleeping and cat-taunting are important to a well-lived life, but not at the expense of your own growth.
Be Bold. Take The Leap. Swan Dive Off the Cliff. Go Ahead and Take The Cat.
Who knows, maybe the pool below will be nice and refreshing. The cat probably won’t think so, but a little water never killed a pet.
You probably know what leap you need to take. It’s something that’s bugged you for awhile or something you know will make you happier, as soon as you throw yourself over the first hurdle.
If you don’t know exactly where you need to be bold, look at what frightens you. The tender, scary bits usually point us toward where we most need to grow.
My bold leap involves those scary business-building things like hustling and self-promotion and, you know, actually telling people what I’m doing. Rather than writing in my little hobbit hole and never sharing it with anyone. Because the idea of hustling and connecting brings up massive resistance and anxiety. So, for the most part, nobody knows my writing exists.
I need to put my words in front of the people who would most benefit from it.
Yes, this is scary. No, I don’t particularly want to do it. But that’s just too damn bad. It’s time to do it anyway.
What scares you? Where can you be bold and take the leap? What are you going to do, even though it’s flashing its pointy goblin teeth in your direction?
BE BOLD. TAKE THE LEAP.
It’s harder to stay small than it is to expand. So now’s time to jump.