Just. Freakin’. Start.

My first self-development video and why building momentum comes first

Yesterday I posted a video on YouTube. It’s my first ever globally public video where I’m actually showing my face and talking about something I care about.

Cue the embarrassment:

One take, and post it online. No one relevant will be around to witness it until you’re relevant yourself, so why worry?

The video isn’t anything special. In fact it’s next to awful. The natural sunlight cuts across my chest, I’m super squinty, the message is all over the place, and one sentence towards the end doesn’t even make sense.

Good, Ash, good.

Perhaps I feel that writing and publishing this post now will hedge against the “inevitable” ridicule.

In reality though, it’s going to be a long, long time before anyone gives any semblance of a damn about what I put out into the world. I haven’t earned it yet, and I’m completely ok with that.

And yet, I worry. I worry what people are going to think of me — people I know and people that I don’t know. I worry not about the praise that I might receive for attempting to put out real value to the world, but for the trolling criticism I’ll get (probably from people who aren’t putting themselves on the line at all, and just like to play and poke at people who are).

The fact is though, that all this worry, this fear, this wondering “am I good enough?”… All of it is just dumb. There is no point in giving any thought to peoples’ opinions about you because, well, it’s none of your goddamn business what people think of you.

There is also no point in worrying about it not being perfect. It’s like trying to run before you can walk, trying to bench 100kg before you can bench 50kg, like trying to negotiate a hostage situation before you can negotiate a cheaper loaf of bread.

You are never going to be great at something if you think you’re above the process; if you think you should be ahead of where you are when you haven’t put in the work.

I guess the thought I’m trying to express here is this: whatever you set out to do, start from where you’re at — and damn the naysayers who laugh when you fall. You can’t jump the puddle to where you want to be. Instead you have to stumble through it and get a little muddy along the way.

But it’s better to get muddy while striving for your goals than to be on the sidelines, doing nothing but watching and judging.

Just. Freakin’. Start. You’ll be surprised at how good it feels to proudly put out something mediocre.

Be fierce,

Ashford