You don't know what's coming next.

That's one of the driving forces for me.

I'm not sure what challenge will be thrown at me next, so I only have one choice: keep growing.

You might think I'm weird for this, but I see my fears in a different light than most people.

When I notice I'm scared of something, I see it as a threat. Not the thing I'm afraid of, the fear itself is the threat.

I think to myself:

One day, this fear will prevent me from doing something important.

This morning, I opened the garage door as we always do when it's time for her to go to work, and my wife was horrified:

Snow. Snow everywhere. And it was still coming down.

I had to drive her across town in very slippery conditions with reduced visibility.

When I was learning how to drive 13 years ago, I was petrified of snow driving.

Night driving, too. And merging on the interstate. I almost got into 3 accidents I can remember, and I actually jumped my car on a curb and busted my radiator hose one time.

I was a clumsy driver in my early days. I hated driving, which is why I waited til I was 18 while all my friends had their licenses at 16.

Truth is, I was scared to drive at all. Cars freaked me out. They went too fast, and I felt safer not being in one.

I just wanted to be left alone to ride my bike and walk everywhere. Not so easy to live like that in America, though, so I eventually had to suck it up and take Driver's Ed (iykyk).

When I got to college, I found myself driving in the snow a lot.

As someone trained in parkour, I was taught to view fear as "information", not as a "warning". It taught me about my opportunities for growth, not any real limitations.

So I overcame this fear by imitating my favorite drivers from Fast & Furious: I started drifting.

And after years of doing this, I developed a muscle memory for it. A confidence for driving in snow.

I even started to enjoy it. I would try out new drifting techniques to see if I could round a corner in a different way, or get a longer slide distance.

It turned something that used to terrify me into a game.

So when I opened that garage door, I was unfazed.

I calmly drove her to work, effortlessly handling slippery hills and corners as if it were just another Monday.

And that's how it felt when I got used to writing content on LinkedIn.

I used to be so afraid of what people thought of me. What my employer would think if they saw my posts.

Most people are so up their employer's butt they think anyone who posts on LinkedIn must be job-hunting, as if that's the only way to use that platform 🙄

(if you're one of those people, my boss actually follows me for my LinkedIn content: he likes reading it 🤣)

Imagine having literally no imagination. That platform has opportunities most people think are fictional.

I've had conversations I didn't feel worthy of. Gotten praise from people I don't even know.

It's like networking on auto-pilot. And sure, I've gotten a lot of hate for some dumb things I've posted.

But you learn and grow. And you find out who you need to block to keep your sanity.

You stop posting dumb stuff after you get burned for it enough times.

Just like you don't try the same snow-driving technique twice if the first time you almost run into a pole.

If you're tired of letting fear win, and you want to give posting on LinkedIn a try, then...

​>>> ...just give it a try.​

The worst thing you can do is cope by thinking "I'm not that kind of person" while other people benefit from facing their fears.

Truth is, we're all that kind of person if we want to be. Because it's a skill, not a personality trait or a gene.

You just have to start. The rest works itself out if you keep showing up.

Happy Monday.

Cheers,

Steven