Dear Friend,
What kinds of things are you scared of? What keeps you up at night? As Clay and I walked the trails to the beach at Ft Stevens State Park in Oregon, we chatted about the last time we were here. About a year ago, we walked these same paths. We did not have Frankie, had not yet been to Alaska, had only just launched this Substack and the podcast.
A year in, we are thrilled with where we are in so many ways. We are also excited to see where the next leg of growth will take us. But I remember feeling so nervous before launching the podcast. What if no one listens? What if people do listen?! What if they don’t like what we say? What if I’m not good at editing?
I had endless questions. And one of the scariest was - what if this is really good and it goes better than expected? What if it gets bigger than we imagined? That hasn’t happened, yet. But I do think that fear of success can hold us back. We get ahead of ourselves and start to worry about issues that haven’t even happened yet.
It can be so scary to put yourself out there. To put in hours of work to something only a few people may ever see and that may never amount to any income. I know we’ve teased Library Trolls and our Youtube videos for a bit now and I promise they are in the works and being edited this very weekend. I am so excited to share them (and other projects we are spinning up) with you.
I also wake up at night in a mild panic about the details of these projects and that same familiar fear that it won’t work out. That no one will like it and I will never be successful at anything. That I shouldn’t have left the relative comfort of the corporate world.
Everything big (and good) that I have done in the last 5 years has felt this way to some extent. The scarier the thing, the better it was for me. Walking away from the Evangelical church was terrifying. I was worried I would lose relationships, that people would be critical and vocal. I wasn’t wrong, but I am okay. More than okay, really.
Walking away from a good job to hit the road full time felt nearly unhinged. I hadn’t necessarily intended to walk away. But it was freeing when I did. I realized how much of my life and my identity had been wrapped up in my career. It was really hard, but I rebuilt how I saw myself, how I valued myself.
I can’t wait to look back on this time a year or five from now and see how far I’ve come. Everything won’t be easy. Some things won’t go well. But I’ll never regret trying, never regret being true to myself and pursuing things that bring me joy, that I think will spread joy in the world.
I am so glad you’re here friend. Here’s to taking scary steps, to sleepless nights followed by great joy.
See you down the road,
Jamie