What is it? What does it look like? Can you see it? Your life…where you want it to be. It’s right there. You can almost touch it. Yet, sadly, you can’t. You won’t. You refuse to step forward. You refuse to reach for it. You refuse to turn the knob and pull back the door, stepping into the way your life is supposed to be.

But why?

The fear of failing. The fear of falling. The fear of making crucial mistakes and becoming the laughing stock of the entire world. This fear cripples you. It controls you. It haunts you. And it defeats you because you’re still standing here looking at it.

What are you going to do?

Nothing. Impossible. There must be a way to defeat yourself. To no longer hide behind the curtain on the stage as the audience murmurs and gripes over the ten-year delay. When will the show begin? When will you step out into the spotlight? When will a smile replace the dread that has become of the butterflies in your belly?

Only you know.

The ship is sinking. It has been for some time. Slowly, surely, filling up with water. You have come to realize now that no amount of buckets can get all of the water out. From the ship, into the sea, only to flow into the boat again. You prepare to drown.

As you write a final note to yourself, and whomever may find it, tears begin to fall. The letter is full of regret and mentions of missed opportunities. The letter seeps with sorrow, grief, even anger at yourself. “I could have, I should have, I would have, but…” begins each line.

As the frustration builds, you begin to crumple the paper, jabbing the pen into a dusty table. “What am I doing? What have I done?” No…it’s what you haven’t done. Fed up, finally, you stand and head to the front of the boat. Looking at the coastline, less than a mile away, your oars are put to work.

“I can’t die like this! I can’t let this happen.”

Now, within range, you pull the old, rusty boat onto shore. A crowd of people simply stare, wondering what you were doing just sitting out there all these years. The sand in your feet, the crisp wind blows by, and suddenly you realize:

On the other side of fear is freedom.

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