A Letter to Myself the Day Before Something New

Dear Me,

Here's a reminder of just how awesome/awful newness feels.  The start of something new always sounds like a great idea, but when you begin the work, it's messy, sticky, and leaves your heart feeling chafed (kind of like the first time you shaved your armpits using your dad's old razor…it hurt).

In case you're tempted to forget the pubescent emotions of starting a new business, here's a few reminders:

-Waking up every day at 4 a.m. to write.  Every.  Single.  Day.

-Breaking out into cold sweats at the thought of being so vulnerable, so publicly.

-Quitting at least 173 times (then talking yourself back into it).

-Believing you had a break-through at midnight, only to later wake up later and read non-sensical notes written at midnight.

-Learning to drink coffee.

-Admitting you need help.

-Admitting you're wrong.

-Admitting you have a hard time admitting.

-Feeling gaping holes of loneliness, like a canon shot through your belly.

-Crying from the weight of it all.

Don't forget these feelings.  Hold onto them the same way Journey sings about feeeeeeeeling.  Squeeze your eyes shut and sing Don't Stop Believin' at the top of your lungs because you didn't give up.  You're doing what you believed you were called to do.  So sing.

And when things go wrong (and they will), remind yourself of the moments when you wanted to give up, but didn't.  It made you stronger.  It made you resilient.  Continue doing what you've worked so hard to do.  This is just the start of a long road, but celebrate the first step.




This photo was taken by your assistant, Tami, after you gave a practice presentation. And failed. You set up a projector to show how ready you were, but you weren't. So you went back to practicing. (Also, maybe you should get a pedicure?).