The Courage to Stop Settling...& The Permission To Dream Big

You know the dream.

...The million-dollar one.

...The famous author one.

...The married and living happily ever after one.

The one you've stopped mentioning. The one that felt too large to say out loud, so you made it smaller.

More defensible.

Safer to fail at.

Or maybe you haven't shrunk it exactly. You've just stopped feeling it.

You keep moving - one careful step, then another - and something has gone flat. The aliveness you were expecting to find hasn't shown up.

And you can't quite name when it left.

Both of those women - the one who keeps making the dream smaller and the one who keeps moving but feels nothing - are living the same thing.

They've made it safe enough not to feel afraid.

And in doing that, they've made it too small to feel anything at all.

Claim Your Identity

I am addicted to Benjamin Hardy's writing. There are ideas I keep revisiting from 10X Is Easier Than 2X and The Science of Scaling  that I can't let go.

He says that dreaming bigger isn't just inspiring. It's the mechanism that forces you to focus. 

A large goal inside a short timeline doesn't let you drift. It pulls you into deep thinking.

Makes you choose what truly matters and let go of everything else.

It activates a kind of creative intensity that a sensible, manageable goal simply cannot generate.

The small goal lets you plod.

Lets you doodle at the edges.

Lets deadlines slide.

The terrifying one pulls you toward the centre of your own work.

And I thought: that takes courage.

Maybe even the fire-walking kind, where you cross burning coals, barely feeling your legs, with Fred - your fear voice - loudly screaming in both ears. (I did this)

Maybe even the stepping- backwards-off-a-zipline-platform-high-in-the-trees kind... I did this, too. Deliberately, just to prove to myself that I could move even when fear had nearly taken over my whole body.

These were moments that taught me - yes, I can do hard things. You have these moments, too. Think back - when did you have to face something really difficult and you did it?

We both can...again.

So one year ago I made a commitment to myself. I decided I was going to write ten Little Books of Courage. One for each of the biggest courage blockers women face.

Written and released in three years.

Fred had a great deal to say about that, as you can imagine. I didn't argue with him. I've learned not to. I just turned and answered a different question...

Who do I want to be?

The answer came back - someone who keeps writing anyway. Despite the fear. Someone who wants to make a difference.

Today I'm releasing my third book. Because it's who I want to be.

Take the Step

The dream hasn't gotten less terrifying. The timeline hasn't gotten more forgiving. There are mornings when the size of this still feels impossible.

But the big dream did something a careful, safe goal never could.

It pulled me forward.

...into focus

...into choosing

Into becoming, one book at a time, a woman I hadn't fully met before.

The courage didn't arrive before the work began. It showed up inside the doing.

Looking back now, I can see something I couldn't see at the start - a capacity that was only ever going to become visible because the dream was large enough to require it.

That's not something you manufacture before you begin.

You discover it by saying yes to the thing that asks more of you than you're currently sure you have.

So here's what I want to ask you...

The dream you've been making smaller - the one that feels too large to say out loud, too bold to write down, too much to admit even to yourself - that version might be exactly the right size.

Not because it will be easy. But because the size of it will pull you into exactly who you're here to become.

You don't need to see the whole path. You just need to answer one question.

Who do I want to be?

And then take one Tiny Brave Step toward her.

If you have 90 seconds right now, write it down. The dream. The full, uncomfortable, undefended size of it. No qualifying, no softening. Just the true version in one sentence. You don't have to show it to anyone. You just have to let it exist on paper.

If you have five minutes and someone you trust nearby, tell them. Open with this: "I've been sitting with something. Can I just say it?" Then say the real size of the dream. Not the safe version. The one that still makes your stomach move when you think about it.

That's it. That's the step.

The Tiny Brave Steps Generator is a place to go next. One small next step. Right now.  It’s programmed to lead you into courage - in the direction of the version of your life that's been waiting.