Screw the Doubt, Just Do It

The title is brash, but for good reason. There's no sugar coating this post. No holding your hand, walking you through it, no babying you until you hear what you want to hear. This is a full force shove into the deep end with no life jacket. The training wheels were never there. User manual? Never existed. That tiny voice in your head that instills doubt...screw it.

For many years I let that voice rule me. It held me down, ruined what would've been epic memories, and stole incredible moments. Even after I thought I had beaten it, every once in awhile, it would resurface. Attacking moments I considered insignificant, but in hindsight were crucial. No matter what condition you are in, everyone deals with this voice, some just louder than others. And the truth is that if you coddle that voice to make it feel like it compromised...you're wrong. It won.

An old example comes from my childhood. Every summer I took swimming lessons at our local pool. And I absolutely hated the deep water. I did it each year because it meant a week of going swimming. There were at least 8 levels to get through. They weren't restricted to year, but they were restricted to the one week. Some kids got through 3 levels in a week, some one, and some didn't even pass. I was the third kid. Each level took me multiple tries. My first attempt at level 1, that voice harassed me. Telling me they were going to force me to do scary things and if I started drowning, no one would be there to help me. So I cried my way through level 1. The next year I came back as did the voice, but I managed to keep it at bay to make it past level 1. The next year two years were the same results. Two years for level 2. Then came the dreaded level 3. This meant jumping in the deep end. For three straight years, that was the only thing keeping me from getting to level four. And that evil voice screamed louder each time. "You'll drown. Those instructors are lying. They won't catch you. You're weak."

My fourth attempt at passing level 3 was going to be my last. We were moving in August. The first four days went fine. But on the fifth day came the dreaded jump. There I stood on the edge of the deep. Dreading that moment. The voice came screaming in like it always did. But then another voice emerged. A human voice. One of the girls in my class admitted she was afraid of jumping in too. And after some consideration, she decided that it was her last chance for a whole year to do this and to heck with it, she was jumping. I watched as she leaped into the deep. In a matter of seconds, she surfaced and was treading water. My instructor encouraged me and she did too. "If I can do it, you can too." Then a new voice popped in my head. It sternly said "Screw the doubt, just do it!"

I jumped.

Mere seconds after I hit the water, I found myself above the surface and made it to the wall. Two emotions swept over me. Sheer joy that I had just conquered a dastardly fear and slight irritation that I let that stupid voice rob me of progress. Then the whistle blew and as I reunited with my parents, I had a certificate in my hand that proved I passed level 3. But because I let that evil voice rule me, instead of making it through 8 levels, I only completed 3.

Even though I beat that voice then, it never totally went away and it never fully will. It can sometimes linger in a smaller way.

A more recent example is from when I was in NYC for the first time in 2016. I didn't have a plan for when I was there other than I knew what I wanted to see and do. Nearly every day I winged it. Starting at one place and moving to everything I wanted to see within the time I had. After five days of this, my time was running out. I had one full day left and I still hadn't done one of the things I had mainly planned to do. Most of the stuff I did was before all my friends arrived for the wedding we were all attending. And the days following, we did stuff together. So by then, it was hard for me to do some other individual things.

When the city woke me up on my final day there, I realized I had a small window to go do what I had been dreaming of doing since I was a mere lad. Stand at the base of the Statue of Liberty. But that dreaded voice arose and spoke these words: "It'll take you an hour to get there and at least another 3 to do the whole process. You'll have to deal with mass crowds of people, long lines, and all in the hot sun. What if your friends wake up while you're there and have other plans in store? You've seen so many other things already. No need for more. You've seen it from a distance, isn't that enough?" Part of me actually began to believe it was right. But then I realized what was speaking. I unlocked my phone and saw Lady Liberty staring at me from my wallpaper. I recalled the feelings of incredible joy from stumbling upon the Balto statue in Central Park. I had been waiting my whole life to see the Statue of Liberty and I wasn't going to let that voice of death stop me now.

I waited in the lines. I boarded the boat. As we got closer, my excitement kept building. As we cruised across the ocean, she became larger and larger. Once the boat docked, I wasted no time getting off. I hastily moved to where she stood. And as I gazed upon her, I was in complete awe. I drowned out the crowds around me, as if they weren't there. I was standing at the feet of the very statue that promised hope to so many years ago. The moment was incredible and as for that voice, not even a whimper could be heard. I know that if I had given any ground to the doubt, I'd be regretting it
heavily still to this day.

Now to be clear, I'm not advocating for you to do anything stupid. If you're hearing that voice, don't ignore it because that's your conscience. Ignoring that would be bad. But the voice I mentioned here is more concerned with filling you with fear, doubt, and despair. It's sole purpose is to destroy you. Don't let it do that. Don't let fear and doubt hold you down. Sometimes you have to take that chance. That leap of faith. Because you truly will never know what it's like unless you just do it. Trust me, you'll be glad you did.