Personally, my fears are practically endless. Normal ones, like plane crashes and something happening to my kid. More exotic ones, like alien abduction or actually appearing naked before an audience. I could catalog them all for you, but you’d get bored. Fast.
Suffice it to say, I’ve had to work very, very hard to keep these fears from standing in my way. And even despite that, they have. Why, for instance, have I known I wanted to be a writer since the age of five (true story, ask my mom), but didn’t go to journalism school until I was 26? Why did I write several manuscripts but only make a real effort to get them published a few years ago? Fear, plain and simple. I’ve chosen safe and easy routes, and frankly I’m not the hardest worker either. But for the most part, this reluctance is due to a lack of faith that people want to hear what I have to say.
Why? I’m not sure, but I do know that many people suffer from this same problem. The thing is, the world is a huge place. There are so many people out there it’s basically impossible to say something that won’t spark interest in at least a few like-minded souls. I don’t care if you’re convinced your dead pug is speaking to you through your grandmother. Or you collect stones shaped like the Pope. Someone, somewhere, wants to hear it so what are you waiting for?
More to the point, what am I waiting for? The perfect moment, the perfect statement, the perfect me? It doesn’t exist. We all wish for our perfect selves, but in reality, that’s too much to live up to, and awfully hard to by friends with.
Like Seth Godin said: “The only thing worse than starting something and failing … is not starting.” So start. Fail. Then start again. And when you’ve figured out that process, come tell me how you did it, because I would love to hear your thoughts. (See? I told you someone did.)