One summer when I was about 10, my family was vacationing at a lake in northern Minnesota and we rented a jet-ski. From the moment it arrived, I was terrified. And determined to ride it.
My dad barely finished his safety briefing (key lanyard attached to life vest, check) and operational overview (here’s how you give it gas and steer, check) before I took off. The throttle was pretty touchy, so I opted for wide open and, before I knew it, I was in the middle of Big Lake and out of sight.
It was thrilling and frightening all at once.
Racing along the water, I felt light and free, eyes watering from the wind and the sun reflecting off the water.
And yet, the waves left by others’ wakes launched me into the air (at full throttle) or rocked me back and forth (when I slowed down), creating a pit in my stomach. What if I fell off in the deepest part of the lake?
I didn’t. Fall off, that is.
When I told dad I wanted to write about taking risks for my next blog, he immediately recalled this very story. “You were always like that,” he said. “I didn’t have to convince you to try new things; you just did.”
There may not be a clever one-liner for this lesson from dad, but it comes from him nonetheless. He had — still has — an unspoken way of expecting 120% from people. I think it’s the example he set.
He pitched and pursued his idea for a business and then bought it from the owners years later. He built our childhood home. He even took up rollerblading with me.
Whether it was a new activity, situation or potential relationship, my dad expected you to give it your best shot. Or maybe, you just wanted to because you knew he had.
At any rate, this lesson is top of mind for me because I recently left my full-time job to start my own communications consulting business. Much like the jet-ski, the ride so far has been both exciting and terrifying.
When I told people what I was doing, I got the sense that a few were envious. Like they had thought about taking a similar step, but for whatever reason, never did.
If you can relate, here are a few tips that help me do things that scare me:
First, ask yourself, if you don’t try it, will you be disappointed later? Will you have another chance at this opportunity? This is how I, someone who is mildly afraid of heights, ended up on a zipline in the Belizian jungle.
Next, try to picture what the very best outcome looks like. For example, having fun golfing with, and learning from, a PGA Champions Tour golfer. And then, the very worst … embarrassing yourself in front of said pro golfer. Often, the best potential outcome outweighs the worst and, if you're like me, you say, heck yeah, I’m golfing in that pro-am! (see also, previous question, when was I going to have that opportunity again?)
The final, and hardest, trick is: Try not to overthink it. Your brain will dream up all kinds of doubts and what if scenarios if you let it. When this happens, I try reminding myself the odds are in my favor.
Many other people have successfully started their own businesses. Right?!?! And, as my good friend wisely said, “You can always get another job, Jacque.”
What is it you’ve always wanted to do, but just haven’t?
Originally published by Meatingplace as part of the Lessons from the Farm blog series at meatingplace.com
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