At the start of 2015 (February to be precise, the scariest month of every year), I purchased this book/diary. I brought it with me every where, and one day my boss spied it sitting out on my desk.
“So, have you gone skydiving yet?” He asked with a sly grin.
No, I thought… BUT, I have joined three different Meetup groups in Seattle; gone to a movie, and a play, and a festival BY MYSELF; and have tried octopus sushi… all within two months. I’ve also freely complimented my servers and fellow bus riders AND followed-through on 4/5 of my social commitments.
As of this nanosecond, I’ve also committed to posting a blog once a week (yes, I know everything’s been said, but it hasn’t been said by me); planned a trip to Ireland, and accepted an invitation to join a new professional organization.
OK, so this blog post is really about two weeks late… but it’s still published.
Bring me giants!
It has been proven by science that we do not give ourselves enough credit for the things we do. At least Megan-science (aka years of observation). I know some quantifiable-extraordinary people: two rocket scientists, a world-traveler, at least six software geniuses, and a plethora of brilliant artists.
I also know a 70-year-old woman who is determined to go to the gym for 15 minutes twice a week; people with chronic depression who tell the funniest stories; and a man who makes me smile every time I see him by being kind to friends and strangers alike.
They’re all my heroes.
But doubt is a powerful foe, and in spite of their achievements, my knights-in-shining-armor often let slip that they’ve lost their sheen. They fear that they’re not good enough, or not doing enough with their lives, or have missed out on something they should have been doing. They forget that between them they’ve: written a novel; moved across the country to pursue a new and better life; produced their own plays; conquered a heroin addiction; found love again; and rolled out of bed every morning to participate in the daily grind of humanity.
Doing something scary does not mean jumping out of a plane; it means sending a text to someone you haven’t seen in four years, or driving to the other side of town. It means putting a toe (maybe even two!) outside of your comfort zone and embracing the consequences. It’s an exploration of the mysterious continent: yourself.
We, and I most definitely include myself in this summation, should consider that we do not know everything, especially not how our actions affect others or how much we mean to them. And, quite frankly, we may never know … but if we can believe in ourselves, we’ll find the courage to not only skip over the molehills, but to conquer the mountains.