Breakthrough

I told everyone I’d post weekly.

More than a month later, I’m in the same frustrating position.

It’s not that I’m incapable, it’s because I’m still afraid.

I fear failure, judgment, and embarrassment. 

I don’t want to come off as pretentious, arrogant, or preachy.

It’s a “If I don’t try, then I won’t fail” mentality, 

and it never fails to make me feel inadequate.

Here’s the truth:

Reality is altered through action, not inertia.

Dominoes don’t fall without a nudge.

I’ve been given hands to control my course,

but I refuse to put them to good use.

Fear manifests in varieties; it’s the prime inhibitor to purpose.

Imagine what we could do if we could make them disappear. 

But they don’t dissipate with the snap of a finger,

and you don’t wake up one morning with surging courage.

It’s a drawn-out metamorphosis in a suffocating, skintight cocoon.

It requires practice, effort, questioning, small victories, and innumerable failures.

But as long as you show up, you will eventually reach the breaking point.

That’s where I am now. 

I’m teetering on the precipice between my middling past and a meaningful future.

All I need to do is pull the trigger, but there’s one final hurdle to overtake:

Letting go of my weaknesses.

I don’t have an outgoing personality.

I don’t like drawing attention to myself.

Posting to social media is awkward.  

I’d prefer not to be vulnerable to strangers and acquaintances. 

But it’s important that I do this. 

Otherwise, I will never become the person I want to be—

The person I’ve been struggling to liberate from my self-induced restraints.

That person doesn’t fear another’s negativity.

He follows his heart, and trusts himself to say the right thing.

He lives his life according to passion and purpose,

understanding the value of action over the hollow cost of fear. 

But if I persevere in introversion, life will deny me entry. 

I won’t meet new people.

I’ll linger as a hermit on a perpetual plateau, 

watching others grow, learn, and prosper while I simmer in discontent.

I’ve lived that life, and I’m happy to say goodbye.

That doesn’t mean it will be easy.

What can I do, right now, to take charge and break through? 

Let’s start with this—

Act like the other man.

The new Sam.

What would he do when difficulties arise?

Would he submit to his fears or cower to his dreams? 

No.

He would post weekly, even if his work is imperfect.

He would open up, even when it’s uncomfortable.

He would spill his heart, even though it might be spit back out.

Because virtue emerges from contribution. 

Good habits become muscle memory through completion;

and new doors open from persistent knocking. 

So, by embracing the new,

believing in the power I’ve accrued, 

and making the moves the old me wouldn’t,

I am due to become him.

You know what?

Forget that.

I am already.