I remember going to the AAA with my grandparents when I was a little girl to pick up their triptik for a trip back East. Along with a map, rest stops, hotels and places to stop were marked for convenience.
Hell, I don't remember for sure, but I think even the Stuckey's were all marked so you could be sure to pick up your pecan log roll along the way.
Granny and PopPop never traveled without their Triptik.
I love the idea of a Triptik for life's journeys. Know where you're going, figure out how to get there and work the plan.
Problem is, life doesn't work that way no matter how much you'd like it to. The do-do bird of mayhem often splats milky-white poo bombs upon your plans, requiring a detour or two.
But there's a bigger problem than a detour in your plans. Way bigger.
With big dreams and journeys, seeing all the steps between Here and There can be overwhelming. If you're a seasoned catastrophizer like I am, the overwhelm of the steps plus the myriad tentacles of All That Could Go Wrong combine to squeeze the breath out of you and stop you in your tracks like flies on flypaper.
Maybe that's just me, but I suspect not.
A friend of mine once worked with a shaman who used the analogy of driving in the desert at night to describe what's necessary to travel the road to your destination. As you drive, your headlights illuminate the road in front of you just enough to inform you of turns or suicidal armadillos in the road.
All you really need to navigate well is the next 100-feet in front of you.
Knowing too much about the journey can paralyze you, keeping you safely ensconced where you are instead of traveling to someplace you'd really like go. You play it safe or don't even start.
When we plan too much, the challenges become Herculean to our brains when, in reality, we're quite adept at vanquishing them on the fly.
I'm staring down the barrel of an idea that's excitingscaryfreakingmeout. My lizard brain is acting like Large Marge in Charge, offering up all the reasons why I'm crazy or it's too risky, and along with the excitement, ol' Lizard Brain's given me a raging dose of the urge to blow chunks.
I've hit this wall before, and far too often, I've succumbed to Lizzie's voice of reason and all the disasters she's predicted instead of focusing on the first five steps forward.
To be honest, I don't know how I'm going to transcend this fear to do something bigger than I currently believe I am capable of. But I want it…desperately…and if it means I'm wiping puke from the corners of my mouth as I move forward, so be it.
So far, all I have is a URL and an overarching idea. A few notes. The plan to join Sandi Amorim and Jenny Bones S'more Summer Camp for Solopreneurs for some education, structure, and a sure kick in the squishy part I sit on.
I can't think about the what ifs right now because if I do, I will never move forward.
And mostly what I want to say to you is that whatever it is you're not starting because the long view freaks you the hell out, scale back.
Think next month, next week, next day, whatever it is that doesn't make you want to reenact the vomit scene in The Exorcist.
But: Whatever you do, do not walk away from your dreams, the ideas that make you shake with passion alongside the nervous-making, that make you sweat and hope and light up like a sparkler.
Because walking away without even trying is worse than any of the possible roadblocks or pitfalls your lizard brain so thoughtfully marks out on your triptik because none of those worries or concerns may even happen. It is certain there will be challenges, but then again, there are still challenges when we play it safe and small.
Nothing is certain in life. We may as well go balls to the wall after something that makes us feel alive.
I'd love to hear more from you, my rock star readers.
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Image by: jorgempf