There's this temptation that I face every day. It's powerful and strong and sings the sweetest tune. My life’s purpose and business often make it more difficult not to give in. At every turn I’m tempted to cave and it becomes difficult to see truth.
What if Neo took the blue pill? What if he never decided to follow the White Rabbit in the first place? The Matrix would have been a movie about a guy who is discontent and knows there’s something more. But all you’d see is 73 more minutes of a guy sitting in his cubicle, glued to a computer. What if Luke had ignored the partial clip of Princess Leia, chalking it up to a robotic malfunction? What if he declined Obiwan's invitation to join him on his mission to deliver the Death Star plans to the Rebel Alliance, taking over his aunt and uncle's farm instead? We would watch a young brat farm for 84 minutes.
The four years before I launched my business, I created a plan that would get it all rolling within three months. I also had a plan that would take me through the following nine months and generate enough income that would sustain my business. I even had investors lined up to help with that initial launch. I would dream about what it would be like to do the things I loved the most while having the freedom to create my own schedule and generate an income that could support me and my family. I created this plan within a matter of one month. I then spent the next four years coming up with any excuse to NOT launch that plan. I was terrified.
I remember the day my first dog died. Her name was ‘Lady’, of course. She had wandered onto our property when I was about one year old and despite our efforts to find her owner, no one ever claimed her. I can’t recall my childhood without including her because she was with me for the first 14 years of my life. On that day when we finally put her to sleep, I remember shutting down in an effort to avoid the pain.
My most memorable wrestling match in high school was against the toughest kid I had ever met. This guy had muscles growing on top of his muscles. Before the match, he was across the gymnasium, mouthing curse words that I hadn’t even heard before. I was intimidated. But something in me snapped in that moment and I realized that there was every possibility in the world that my best was good enough.
Being completely present means that I have to let people experience the totality of me. It’s easier to say a half truth than it is to let people see all the way through me. What if they don’t like what they see? What if I don’t like what I think they see?