This is the 8th and final week of my Daring Greatly Book Club. You can read the other seven posts in this series here.
I have come to believe that daring greatly is not about the size of the task, but the size of the courage required for you to attempt the task.
Over the past eight weeks, I have heard from so many of you who are daring greatly. One of you chose to share your beautiful, hilarious, and poignant thoughts on Facebook, as a way to show up and engage with life, because you were done with hiding.
One of you chose to keep taking care of your husband, who is now battling cancer, because you will love him to the end.
One of you kept speaking publicly even though it takes so much out of you, because the world needs to hear your voice.
Some of you are in marriages that seem to be falling apart, yet you’re staying engaged, staying vulnerable… staying.
Some of you just stayed in your battle. You refused to give up.
So many of you named your perfectionistic tendencies, and have chosen to embrace your actual life, imperfections included.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause;
Who at best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
— Theodore Roosevelt
It’s time to dare greatly again, and name some of the ways you’ve dared greatly these past two months.
I’ll go first.
- When a tough conversation was wrapping up, and I knew I hadn’t said the last 10%, I stopped the conversation, screwed up the required courage, and said it.
- I wrote five posts every week, when I felt like it and when I didn’t.
- I hired a spiritual director, because I knew I that I could no longer keep pretending that everything was OK.
- I gathered my closest group of friends together and shared some difficult things in my life that they weren’t aware of, hoping that I wouldn’t sound too stupid, because I knew I needed them, whether I looked stupid or not.
- In a meeting, I shared my opinion – on a very big subject – when everybody else was going a different way.
- I apologized to three specific people who were affected by a mistake I made.
It does not matter if you succeeded. It does not matter if you did it perfectly (no one does). It does not matter if you could have done it better, if someone else would have done it differently, or if the result was disappointing.
What matters is that you showed up, and gave what you had at the time, and you did it.
You dared greatly, and even if you failed, the credit still belongs to you.
So, if you have the courage, I’d love to read a few of the ways you’ve dared greatly over the course of these past eight weeks. Thank you so much for reading, for engaging, and for showing up. We’re in it together.