When did I first start becoming afraid? I thought I was a confident person, I thought I had it all. There are loads of people who’ve told me that I was one of the more confident persons they knew, but of course that was all just performance. I got good at pretending I was confident. I got good at pretending that I didn’t care. I got so good at it that I convinced myself, too. I convinced myself that I was not afraid. But when I look back on my life, when I look at what I used to do, and how much I left undone, I realize I must have been afraid. I must have felt unworthy. I must have felt like it was not my time.
I remember now, when I look back. I was afraid that the guys in the gym would think I was too skinny to belong there. I was afraid that I wasn’t a real runner, and that me running would look silly. I’m gangly and skinny– I had skinny legs and I looked like a joke in my running shorts. Well, I don’t care anymore. I look like a joke, so be it. I’m taking responsibility for my life. I’m going to run anyway. If somebody’s going to laugh at me, good for them. I’m happy to provide others with entertainment. That’s all part of the joy of the experience.
I don’t know how to swim and I’ve been afraid to admit it. Once I’m done with my running and I finish my run test, I’m going to be hitting the weights. I’m going to be going to the pool and I’m going to figure out how to swim. I’ve always been afraid of the kitchen and of food preparation. But I can prepare eggs now. I can cook chicken now. I’m going to cook more things. I’m going to wake up early every day. Why am I afraid to confront each day? Because I think that it’s going to be painful? It doesn’t make sense. I didn’t think it through. I didn’t give it much real thought. I didn’t use the light of my consciousness to attack the problem. Because when I put the light in there I realize that it’s bullshit. I realize that it’s all imaginary. Once I get rid of all that imaginary shit, it’s just me versus reality. And reality is hard and painful but it isn’t nearly as scary as I’ve been making it out to be. I can get knocked down I can get knocked out. I can rip my skin up. I can get injured– and even those injuries are preventable and avoidable, so the fear of injury is misguided. It’s far worse to be weak. It’s far worse to be powerless. And I’m going to become powerful. I already am powerful, I just need to realize it.
My emotional state is mine to control. Mine to regulate. Mine to move around. Mind to play with. It’s my playground. I have to stop pretending that life is somehow beyond me. That I’m not ready for life. I am. I’m here right now. Come at me, bro. I know that it can get a lot worse, but I doubt it’s going to happen anytime soon. You might hit me with cancer or a car accident or something horrible like that, but those are not the things that I’m afraid of, am I? Those aren’t even things on my radar. What am I afraid of, then? Why am I not bigger already? Why am I not stronger already? Because I worry about how I’d look? Because I worry about what I sound like? I deserve more than this. I can wake up happy and excited every day. I just need to do the work. I just need to prepare for it. If I know that I’ve given it my all, then I don’t have anything to worry about. I can prepare for all the possible outcomes. It’s much more fun and interesting that worrying about what the fuck everybody else is doing– who gives a shit? Why do I give a shit? It’s distractions! It’s worry! It’s an illusion. It’s not real. I have to remind myself of this every single day. I have powers and talents within me that I haven’t even begun to reach for yet, and this is me reaching. This is me believing.
What was I afraid of? What am I afraid of? The greater fear is that I will spend one single day in fear and weakness. That I will spend one day hesitating. That I will spend one day not giving it my best. And I have already done enough of that. I’ve gotten a lifetime’s supply of “What if?” and “I’m not good enough.” It doesn’t matter. I can move forward with what I have, now. I can do more, now. I can realize my dreams, now. I can prove to myself that I am capable of more. It’s okay to look stupid. Let’s do stupid. Let’s look as stupid as possible. Let’s screw up. Let’s make a bunch of mistakes. Let’s go. Let’s fuck shit up. Let’s get ourselves embarrassed. Let’s feel silly. Let’s feel stupid. Let’s do all of those things. We are ready and able to do beautiful things, so let’s just do them!
The doubt is a lie. The fear is a lie. It’s imaginary. It’s constructed. It’s arbitrary. Let’s deconstruct it. Let’s tear it apart. Let’s destroy it. All of this is like graffiti on a bunch of old boards. We don’t need to address them one by one. We can just rip them apart and tear them apart. What do I want to be remembered for? I want to be remembered as a grinder. As a machine. As ap erson who fought like crazy. Who did not give up, did not give in. Life is a lot more interesting that way. We’ve spent time and energy trying to have a good experience in video games. Good experiences being entertained. Well, there’s no higher entertainment than a good life.
I have dreams. I have goals. And I’m almost embarrassed or ashamed to I let those things fade. I still have these fucking dreams. They still matter. I still want to be a published author. I still want to write. I still want to make a difference to somebody. I still want to tell the truth. I still want to find something worth saying. I will be hungry. I will take it. I will take it all. I am relentless.