How to begin anew? When inactivity and lackluster motivation have become the norm, how will I be able to jump start myself back into a pattern of consistent writing and engaging activity? Again, I’m crippled by fear and self-doubt. Again, just as I was when I began writing on this blog in November 2010, I lack the assurance that my words will ever achieve coherence much less the approval of potential (are you still out there?) readers. In the two years since I began extolling the virtues of entrepreneurship and self-reliance, have I furthered my quest toward the goals that I have so verbosely enumerated in the past? Is my confident demeanor really a manifestation of my internal peace and tranquility or a facade to hide my growing insecurities?
But the reticence extends beyond writing. It’s crept into my way of life. When I was younger, call it juvenile ignorance, I just assumed things would fall into place. Since they haven’t fallen into place, I’ve spent more time searching for or creating an attributable excuse than relentlessly tracking down what’s rightly mine. As I grow older, I live with this evolving knowledge that there are no convenient excuses to fall back on if I don’t succeed, and shit doesn’t just magically fall into place; we have to put it there. The decision resides with us and no one else.
No one cares if I’m too busy, too tired, too hungover, too brokenhearted, or too enthralled in 50 Shades of Grey to achieve my goals; they will simply look at the results and shrug thinking, “well, what squandered potential.” I’ve made it too much of a habit to point my finger at circumstance. Life is easy as the perpetual victim. Woe is me. It’s ok if I don’t succeed. It wasn’t all my fault, right? At least I thought about trying. I wrote about trying. Hell, I even fooled myself to believe that I was trying.
BULLSHIT. Fucking ten foot pile of steaming bullshit.
I’ve only been fooling myself. I’ve swallowed the pill of self-deceit long enough, that I can’t distinguish truth from fabricated lies. But I see that now. It’s time to stand up as a man and take responsibility for what comes my way in life. Call it courageousness if you like, but I think if you squander your God-given abilities long enough, eventually even the dumbest of us (read:me) realize there is a vast difference between trying — trying is half measures, broken promises, and lackluster results– and actually doing.
Do or do not. There is no try. – Yoda
There are many areas of my life where trying has failed. I’ve tried to grow a business. I’ve tried to maintain a blog. I’ve tried being true to friends. I’ve tried to practice moderation. Hell, I’ve even tried to floss on a daily basis. I’ve tried and tried and tried and damn it, I’m tired of trying.
I’M FUCKING READY TO START DOING. Trying is for surviving. Doing is for living.
Some may perceive this post as offensive, others as mindless dribble, and it could even be seen as a cry for help. In truth, it’s a little bit of all of that. But I’m not looking outward for a helping hand; instead, I’m standing in front of the mirror, staring through the cowardly boy into the man that I am to become because when the day is done, it is not the world’s perception of me but my own conviction in who I AM and what I CHOOSE to do with my life that matters most.
Many of us live day to day, saddled with the growing fear that the time is running out to pursue what lies within our hearts. We stand on the sidelines of life, watching the world pass us by, afraid to take the field because once we are out there, we can no longer hide behind the excuse, “if only I’d been given a chance.”
News flash, the chance is already ours to take. It’s right now. Now or never. So whether I win or fall a few yards short of the end zone as time expires, I’d rather walk off the field marred and muddy knowing I did more than try; I chose to play the game.
The ball is back in play, and the clock is ticking….
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