There’s a special kind of courage that shows up as you age.
It’s not loud, like that gold lamé (The name of a fabric!) jumpsuit you wore to a black-tie event. (I sure did!) This courage is quieter, calculated, and accompanied by a touch of anxiety. Did I say a touch?
When you’re younger, you gamble on yourself with time. The odds are in your favor. When you’re older, the chips on the table look a lot like savings, retirement income, and the haunting voice of financial responsibility whispering, “B*@$h, are you crazy? You better start taste-testing dog food now!”
I want to take chances. I want to invest in my dreams. Produce my shows. Self-publish my books. (Basically, the scripts I converted to novel format because it’s easier to sell a book than a movie! Hopefully, it will be much easier to get $10 out of someone than $1-2 million. We shall see!)
I want to bet on the ideas that have been patiently tapping me on the shoulder for years saying, “What ya waiting on? It’s your turn. It’s your time!” Now, I have my daughter tapping me on the shoulder asking me, “Mom, what are you waiting on!” She’s even harder to ignore.
I have always been a risk-taker. Until I wasn’t! I packed up and went to LA with just a part-time job lined up. I was always, as my sister called me, “ballsy.” But truth is, it hits different when your income is fixed and already stretched. There’s no magical “I’ll just make it back later” mindset when later is already here and your shoes are more comfortable than cute.
So yes, I hesitate. I look at what’s left of my savings (very little of which is liquid at this point!) like it’s a fragile antique I inherited from my past self. I fear spending during such unpredictable and for many, unstable times. Hell, I feared they might not show up in 2018 when I had well-paying work and could afford to take the financial hit if they didn’t. BUT THEY DID! Hundreds! To my first production. Hell, as I understand it, Tyler Perry lost his shirt on his first production and look at him now. I am proud to say I broke even. Was I scared? Absolutely. Even more so when the night before at the final rehearsal, no one could seem to remember their lines. I went to bed with the voice of Carrie’s mom from the movie Carrie saying, “There gonna laugh at you!” (google the scene)
BUT…
What’s the point of saving for a life you aren’t fully living? My thoughts are that most have saved just to exist later. Sure, some retire with a shit-ton of money and travel the world on their yachts, but if I were a gambling woman, I would bet that is a small percentage of folks. (And we know how most voted…Did I say that?) The rest of us are just trying to keep the roof over our heads, the lights and heat on, and the fridge and pantry stocked!
That said, at this stage, gambling on yourself isn’t about recklessness. It’s about refusing to let fear be the final decision-maker. It’s about honoring the fact that dreams don’t expire just because paychecks do. I sure do miss that paycheck.
I need to remind myself: (or convince myself!)
I’m not throwing money away.
I’m investing in purpose.
In creativity.
In joy.
In the version of me that refuses to quietly fade into practicality.
I bought this card many years ago and taped it to my monitor. It said, “Leap and the net shall appear.”
Courage now doesn’t look like jumping without a net. It looks like me and my trusty notebooks, my investment spreadsheet open, deep breaths taken and still saying to myself, “I believe in myself enough to try.” Of course, I might need to say that to myself a few more times. I made a promise to myself that for my birthday, I would take one step. Not giving up my actual birthday to the masses, but it’s closing in. No idea what that step was, but maybe comment, and remind me!
BET ON YOURSELF! Roll the dice.
And maybe that’s the bravest bet of all.