It’s this ridiculous thing that you emotionally know, but logically can’t seem to accept.

You know what you want to do. And you know that if you kept at it, you’d probably get there.

Even if you don’t end up exactly where you imagined, you’d still end up somewhere new—and that’s ultimately what you crave more than staying stuck.

You want something new. You want the challenge. You want to feel alive. You want to write a new chapter in your story.

But instead, you stay locked in the exact same spot you were in yesterday. And the day before that.

Because your brain starts spinning out. It feeds you every excuse, fear, and anxiety it can come up with. It activates that deep evolutionary wiring that kept our ancestors alive. And it whispers: “If you take this risk, you might not survive.”

So it shows you every possible way it could go wrong.

Because the brain hates the unknown. It wants safe, known, repeatable. It wants to run the same loop again and again—no matter how stuck, uninspired, or numb you feel.

But your heart?

Your heart craves the unknown.

It wants to nudge you toward the risk. Toward the leap. Toward the path that winds and twists and doesn’t show you the ending.

Start the podcast. Launch the business. Marry the person. Adopt the dog. Move to the new city. Create the thing that lights you up.

Your heart is begging you to feel again.

Your brain is begging you to stay the same.

Which one do you listen to?

Emotionally, you know you want to try. You know from past experience that when you commit to something and stick with it, it feels amazing. You’ve crossed finish lines. You’ve launched the website. You’ve gained a single follower and felt that thrill of finally starting.

But logically… your brain still pushes back.

So what do you do?

I imagined the two versions of me that show up in moments like this:

But that small version has a superpower: he clings to the legs of the strong one. Wraps around them and refuses to let go. And it makes it really hard to move forward.

For a long time, I tried to yell at him. Curse at him. Shame him.

Didn’t work. It just made him hold on tighter.

Then I tried something new.

I imagined that maybe he’s not trying to stop me—maybe he’s trying to come with me. Maybe he’s just scared. Maybe he doesn’t know how to ask for help. So he clings.

And what if… instead of fighting him, I invited him?

What if the strong version of me offered a hand and said, “Come with me. You don’t have to lead. Just walk beside me.”

He let go of my legs.

And I started to move forward.

That’s when everything shifted.

I don’t have to be at war with the scared version of me. He wants what’s best for me too. He just operates from fear, anxiety, and a desire for safety.

But the strong version of me? He wants what’s best for me too. He just uses movement, curiosity, and trust to get there.

If we both want the same thing—joy, growth, fulfillment—why not walk forward together?

That’s what I’m learning.

Respect the fear. Respect the doubt.

But also respect the desire for more. Respect the pull toward growth. Respect the momentum.

And move forward.

That’s what life is.

That’s what we’re here to do.