It's now been about two years since I said "no" to Wall Street so I could say "yes" to a different dream.
While I have no regrets, there are moments, particularly over the last few months, when dreaming really is daring, even frightening, because I just don't know what the future will hold.
Which is why I found this photograph of a tunnel so compelling.
Deciding to walk into the unknown is unnerving to be sure, but it is also thrilling, while still being quite safe; adrenaline for the armchair dreamer, if you will. Before we walk into the unknown, we are still surrounded by the known, be it our identity, or simply our daily routine.
But once inside, we can be shrouded by second-guessing, self-doubt: "what was I thinking when I decided to do x, or y or z?" goes the refrain.
Then what?
Retreat? Advance?
Probably a bit of both.
Remember the day when a headhunter called me, and I took over twenty-four hours to say no, when I knew I would say no, just because it felt good to be wanted?
Then there will be days of derring-do, when we'll be willing to sell our home, if need be, to finance our dream, all the while trusting that we will again move into the known, knowing that it will be a better known...
Because we will be more of who we are.
Alfred Hitchcock once said, "The only way to get rid of my fears is to make films about them."
As you think about daring to dream, and moving into the unknown, or if you are already in the unknown, what fear do you have?
What would happen if you wrote about the fear? Or talked about it? Would the telling of your story help?
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