Do the Thing I fear
Fear waits for me in the shadows. It whispers to me in the quiet moments, telling me to stay where I am, to be safe, to wait for tomorrow. It promises comfort, but comfort is a slow death.
Every time I avoid the thing I fear, I give it power. I let it grow. I let it decide how much of life I get to live. But every time I move toward it, the fear shrinks. My world gets bigger. My confidence gets heavier. My life sharpens.
I remind myself: fear is not the enemy. Fear is the compass. It shows me where the treasure is buried. It points me directly to the life I want. And if I let it control me, I will spend my days trapped in a small, safe box—alive, but not really living.
So today I do the thing I fear. I push into the discomfort. I walk into the storm. My heart races, my hands shake—but on the other side is the proof that I am alive, and that fear only has the power I give it.
“Do the thing you fear and the death of fear is certain.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson