When I lived on Sydney’s Northern Beaches, we’d often spend up to an hour driving around checking the surf.
It was ridiculous at times.
There were so many places to look, we’d often get caught up in the search. Driving from one end of the strip to the other. Fear of a missed opportunity elsewhere keeping us out of the water until inevitably the wind came up and we’d go home frustrated.
On a bad day, we’d be out “looking” for an hour or so, and not even surf.
Often, we consider a bigger project – say writing a book – and we are very clear that we don’t have time.
Of course we don’t right? Our week is full.
The thing is, it wasn’t the “surfing” that took the time.
It’s not the writing either.
It’s the indecision as to whether or not we should surf. Or write.
It’s the standing around, the procrastination. The fear.
Whatever big scary thing you’re thinking about doing is likely very doable. And it will take a lot less time than we think, as long as we just get on with it and jump in the ocean.
