The Inner Monologue

Thinking Out Loud

If I were speaking to those who could act—but don’t—this is what I’d tell them.

What could you try for the first time?

There comes a point when the question, “What could I try for the first time?” stops being about opportunity and starts being about courage. Many people already have the tools: the money, the access, the experience, the connections. They’re not waiting for permission—they’re waiting for the fear to subside. And it never does.

I’ve lived long enough, done enough, and risked enough to tell you this truth: fear doesn’t go away before you act; it dissolves because you act. The difference between those who shape the world and those who merely comment on it isn’t luck or genius—it’s the willingness to move while still afraid.

At this stage, there’s nothing left I haven’t done or won’t do. So the honest answer to what could I try for the first time is paradoxical: everything and nothing. Nothing, because there’s no unfulfilled dream I’m still chasing. Everything, because every day is a chance to start something that frightens someone else—and to show them it’s survivable.

So my advice is this: stop waiting for courage to arrive dressed as certainty. It never will. The moment you realize that fear and readiness can coexist—that’s when your life stops being a rehearsal.

You already have the resources. You already have the ability. What’s missing isn’t capability—it’s permission. So give it to yourself. And then, do the thing you keep thinking about when you can’t sleep. Because the world doesn’t need another observer. It needs someone who’s already done everything and still chooses to begin again.

Published by

Leave a comment