An ounce of fear set in today.

I can only imagine what the explorers of the past felt as they set out into the open ocean without knowing what was in store for them. Today, I think I felt a little bit of the nervousness they must have had alongside their confidence.

For the past 40 days, I have been traveling into waters I have never charted before. The beast I had to defeat inside of me is long gone, retreated back into the depths of the ocean, and I sail forward. Yet, there is this feeling of discomfort as you see your greatest enemy sink into the blackness of the ocean. Is it dead? Will it come back? Now what?

I have many days to go on this journey, and all around me currently is the open ocean – for the moment peaceful – for the moment without fear of the beast coming back to tear the ship apart – and I think this is why a brief spell of anxiety set in. The men on the ship celebrated the defeat of the monster, yet the captain still remains focused on the end result . . . to make shore on undiscovered land.

We have these moments in our lives where we go after what we want . . . known as our dream . . . and there’s an incredible phenomenon that happens when you commit to this. When you are living the life you don’t want, you often find yourself with all the things in the world still. You have the attention of many, you can live a complacent life . . . but you still have this blackness inside of you that you know you have to bring out into the light. When you go after your dream, things start to get very very quiet.

People stop reaching out, you don’t hear back from many and your internal voice becomes louder and louder as you are stripped of the nonessentials. This was another part of my anxiety today. The days have been getting quieter. The visions have been getting stronger and the time has been spent in different ways than it ever has before. This is all new for me.

It’s all new because in all honesty, in anything that I have gone after, I have never made the full sacrifices necessary in order to become the best I could possibly be. I can admit that about my baseball career because of lacking the knowledge and guidance necessary (when I was healthy) in order to become something even greater than what I ended up being. I can say that about all the times, up until now, that I have attempted to  take it to the next level with this project.

The sacrifices have been made now, though, and the results . . . because life is getting quieter and the focus is intensifying . . . was a new taste for me.

There are 59 days left on this journey and the first 41 have been terrific. The interesting part about this whole thing is that I have learned more about myself, how I work, what inspires me, and what I can do better. I have learned how I can take, what used to be my full effort, and raise the bar on that even. Because I have proven to myself that I can indeed do this. . . it is comfortable. I think there is a lesson in that itself. Raise the bar on your life when you finally start doing the small things right, the momentum builders, and do it gradually over time. Then, when you reach the place where you can say that you could give a little bit more, do that.

Faith is an interesting thing. Blindly knowing something . . . knowing that something is certain . . . even when you cannot see it yet. I think life has special plans for those who seek their dreams. I think the real good stuff starts happening when it sees you are paying your dues, giving everything you have, and putting what you know you should have all that time ago into it. That’s when I think the rewards come. Not the reward of getting to the end, but rather the type of reward where you are given a little glimpse into the future.

At least that’s what I saw last night listening to music. That image, of the future, is going to be kept close to the chest for now. . . but it was clear as day. Now, all I have to do is trust in the path I am on and make any corrections I need to along the way.

And if the beast shows up again from its slumber in the dark waters, I am ready.

Evan Sanders
The Better Man Project