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Feel the butterflies, then chase them away

Iím an introvert who likes to do my job sitting at the kitchen table, watching whatever weather event is happening outside. Sunshine and chirping birds count as a weather event too, so I donít feel bad keeping to myself even when the sun starts goading me. And it does goad me.

When I was younger and newly married, my biggest worry was whether that new recipe I wanted to try would be delicious. I pored over recipe books and spent many hours perfecting my love of cooking. My husband would tell you that I succeeded, but I still think about my less-than-stellar performances with anything containing yeast. Iíve conceded that Iím not a bread baker, and Iím OK with that.

Today, where Iím sitting, the rain is pouring down. Iím at an unfamiliar table surrounded by unfamiliar things. My computer sits open and ready for the words to pour from my fingertips. Iíve taken on a new writing project. Writing lends itself to being an introvert because I can sit for hours in the same spot and never tire of it. Possibly getting up to make coffee several times keeps me moving, but Iím content to sit and let my fingers fly over the keyboard. The wrangling of the words keeps my mind whirring.

If I stopped and thought for too long, I would witness the gathering and unraveling of confidence in myself. There are some who never question their abilities to get something done and do justice to it. Then there are those that need a bit of a windup to get going. I fall into the latter category and need a little pushing to tumble out of my comfort zone. Maybe some are just better at hiding insecurities, and maybe I am too. After a project begins, I smile to myself and wonder why I felt an ounce of anything less than confidence.

We are made for the things set before us, and grabbing them up and running with all our might is the only path, running straight and true.

I believe on any path we choose we feel the nip at our ankles of those who might be sitting in the wings waiting. I was one of those, blinded and bitter at people who were excelling and succeeding. When was it my turn? Why didnít those opportunities fall to me? I would pull inside myself and know what I was meant for yet actively defeat myself because of a lack of energy to go out, find it and make it a reality.

When you stop wishing for things to happen and start proactively searching and finding ways to reach them, thatís when you start succeeding, when doors are opened. Being scared to start a project is nothing new. Itís when you donít start it that it all unravels. Beginnings are the hardest, but you must begin; there is no other way.

So here I sit, computer in front of me and a brand new project at hand. Can I do it justice? I have no choice because I made the decision to begin. I stepped out of my comfy chair to sit in a new one, and there isnít anything better than discomfort to get you moving. Notes have been taken, words are mingling and forming in my brain, and I still myself in the temperate quiet of the room Iím in. And I begin.

Published: February 13, 2017
New Article ID: 2017702139985