Life has changed dramatically for most, if not all of us. Let this fact sink in over these next couple of weeks. We need to stop thinking of this as “business as usual”, only from home. Let your minds and your bodies adjust. Let things “normalize” in the face of this new environment. And then, with a clearer mind and heart, choose what’s next for you and your family.

Let’s each do our part to battle this pandemic. For many of us, that means staying home if possible. It’s not about our individual chance of catching COVID-19 – it’s about who we might unknowingly pass it on to. If a few weeks of isolation can save lives, isn’t it worth it?

Stay home to protect those in the at-risk group, like my parents. Stay home to protect those who have underlying conditions, many of whom you wouldn’t be able to identify simply by looking at them. Stay home so those who need hospital beds and medical resources for other health conditions can still have access to them. Stay home so the medical and health professionals don’t have to end up in a position where they need to make the heartrending life or death decision about who does or doesn’t get a ventilator.

Thank you to all the medical and health professionals, particularly those who are on the frontline, who are doing and giving everything of themselves to take care of others.

My original plan was to have today’s blog be about the results of my “experiment” with reducing verbal language in my life, but something else has held my attention the last little while and refused to give way: my January blues.

January was a difficult month for me. I struggled: I felt more tired and pessimistic. And heavy... as if there were not only a weight on my chest but also weights hidden in my clothes. Everything seemed to happen slower and I felt out of sync with the world and the people around me, including those closest to me. Small negative moments that would normally slide away from notice on their own stayed at the forefront of my conscious mind and I thirsted for positive feedback like a plant leaning and straining for the sustenance of the sun.

I had to leap. And I know now that I had to do it so that I could do it again when the time comes and it will come. Each time I face down the unknown and jump – whether big or small; no matter how many times I change my mind, turn back, go in circles – fear loses more of its grip on me. Each time I jump, my life expands: the decision to act unlocking a hidden door that leads to new paths and worlds I never imagined.

When you read the words “fear of failure”, what do you begin to think about? What images come to mind? What exactly do we fear when we have a fear of failure?

For me, fear of failure was always one big... blob. A weighty, nebulous, obscure, murky, clump of fear.

I never knew what lay beneath it. Despite having my own business and operating as an independent contractor/consultant for almost 10 years, I could never shake it. It would haunt me when I a contract ended unexpectedly or when it took me longer than I thought it would to get a new gig. I never had to battle it for too long though as I’d built up a solid reputation in my field so new work was never too far afield.

If you asked me then, I would’ve said I was lucky to not have to face that fear for too long. Now, I’m not so sure.

My digital diet definitely had its challenging moments, particularly in the beginning. That exasperating and unsettling enemy for so many of us – not knowing – was front of mind those first few days as I wondered about whether my posts had resonated with anyone or, for that matter, if anyone had even read the posts.

But it led to a very pertinent and provocative question…

Does it matter?

So often we focus on and look towards the “big” moments: the presentation, the promotion, the gathering, the goal, the destination.... But how much of our lives do those moments really represent?