You open your eyes and it’s a beautiful morning.
As you lie there alone, staring at the ceiling, you think about who you might meet today. Who you might come face-to-face with. It’s exciting thinking like this. The idea of it makes your heart beat faster. It makes you smile.
Once you’re downstairs – you go to the window and peer out into the world. You see lots of wonderful people really clearly. You stand there, scanning the new faces.
There are so many people you could meet. That you could chat to. That you could be with. Or learn from. People that could teach you about themselves and, better still, about yourself. It’s amazing that you could change their lives and they could change yours.
You stand there for hours, dizzy with the possibility of it all.
It’s evening now and the sun is lower in the sky. You’ve not moved from your window all day. You’re still excited at the thought of all those people you could meet, stand toe-to-toe with and look in the eye.
But as the sun inevitably sets, you realise that your window is no longer a window at all. It is dark outside. And your window has become a mirror.
And the only person you’re looking in the eye – is you.
When I closed my businesses four years ago, I disappeared for a bit. I was frightened to go out and meet people – old and new. They were bound to ask me what I was doing. And why I was doing it. And none of that was clear. So I hid.
Eventually, I got myself back out there. I stopped looking through the window.
And it’s great.
Since starting 50odd I have chatted to a few people about their fear of either getting back out there or pushing themselves to do more or to be more. They are not sure where their fear came from. Or, in most cases, what they’re frightened of.
I just wanted to say that, in my experience, most people out there are really quite nice and will help you.
So if you’re stuck, go outside. Look for the good people. They will help you. And be open the the possibility that – because you are a good person too – they may already be looking for you.
This little story was inspired by my friend Pete Zulu.