Fail fast. Fail often.

 "What is a one year goal you have?"

"To have my writing published - online, magazine, somewhere." Whoa. What? Fuck. Did I say that out loud?

Then to make matters worse I said I wanted to have it accomplished by my 30th birthday. That's in June, far less than the one year mark that already had me nervous. My instant reaction was to ask "wait, is that to big? Am I aiming to high?".

"Ok, what are you going to do to make it happen?". Umm...well...hold on I know this one...."I'm going to network, I'm going to search for writing opportunities, I'm going to reach out to those who I know write and ask for advice/opinions, I'm going to write on my website at least 3 times a week". "OK great, now go. Do that." Fuuuuck. Why do I keep talking?

Goals all of a sudden become real when tied to a deadline, when said out loud, when put out into the universe to become reality. I've never been the girl who had 5 year goals. I'm the girl who got promoted, who became a yoga teacher, who quit her corporate job because an idea sat and then QUICKLY became an actionable plan. I'm the girl who's always had a general direction but not a specific destination. It's strange to sit and really think about what I want, to think about who I want to be, where I want to be.  It's the scary C word - commitment (I am single after all). What am I afraid of? Other people's opinions? Some of them. Judgement? sure. Failing? Yes. That's it. Failing. I cannot fail.

Pixar studios has a quote around their offices that says "Fail often and fail fast". Think BIG and then fail, come up with a new idea and start all over again.  Fail fast? Fail often? I come from a place where failure is linked to performance, performance linked to who I am as a person - failure is not an option. Yet here I am, making it one.

I'm scared. I'm scared to do the thing that's most authentically tied to who I am and failing. It is why it has taken me so long to do it; there is no buffer, no team of people surrounding me, no one to take the blame, no one to share the fall.

No more facade. Just me, my words, and a basket full of "I fucking got this".

200 days. Fail often. Fail fast. Because those who are crazy enough to think they can - do.