This Frigging Rock Will Not Get the Better of Me

Once again, I’m hanging off the side of some mountain, somewhere south of Granada.

And once again, I ask myself: What in the hell am I doing here?

There’s no way up. There’s down, but – nah. Not yet.

I grapple, find a tiny ridge for my fingertips and clutch almightily.

Brice yells from below: “Your legs! Don’t try to hang from your hands – use your legs!”

I look at my feet – two pointed, hard-rubber shoe-tips, precariously placed on a 2cm-wide ridge. My legs tremble.

How can I possibly stand on such a small surface without hanging from my hands? The guy is crazy.

A deep breath, and I stretch my legs until I’m standing. I reach a good stable hold for my hand, and relax.

And suddenly, I know what I’m doing here. I know why I do this stuff.

Because I must. This is me, this is what I do

I have to, always, seek a new boundary, and then cross it.

I cannot live for long in a comfort zone.

And so my life consists of constantly different rocks which I (try to) climb.

Joining a monastery was a good example: Taking exceedingly restrictive vows was one hell (hah) of a way to step out of my comfort zone.

Starting a bespoke tailoring company, that was another one.

Dating – at some point after the monastery I decided that from now on “I’m a fun, confident, fairly handsome guy who has no trouble talking to girls.”. Gulp.

Point is, I believe that this ‘must’ – the thing that drives me to do these things – is what defines an entrepreneur.

It’s the same thing that forces an artist to create.

It’s what makes you want to create your own business, your own life

Your art may not be painting or sculpting, but in your life – out of your life – you’re just as much creating what you envisage. Just like an artist.

In fact, I believe artists (and artisans – a fine line separates the twain) are the primordial entrepreneurs.

Anyway, just something I suddenly had the must to write down.

I didn’t make it up the rock this time, btw. I hadn’t eaten much, I was dehydrated, and there was a chick in yogapants going up the route next to me which I found oddly distracting.

And that was ok: I went up 3 times, only got halfway on each and went down again – knowing that yesterday was not for achieving goals or reaching summits, but for becoming more limber and for growing confidence.

An attitude which gave me exactly those results, but without the self-beating that usually goes with not ‘achieving’.

Speaking of confidence: that girl suddenly lost her grip and fell.

Only a meter and then her safety gear stopped her – but it made me realise: I’m afraid to fall. She’s not, not in the least.

Look at that chick there, taking risks but knowing she can’t suffer more than a bruise and a scuff.

She has the confidence that falling is no big deal at all.

How come I am so petrified, even though I’m fully strapped in and protected just like she is?

And: why do I climb, even though it makes me afraid?

Hey, why don’t we turn this around: What are you afraid of?

Cheers,

Martin

P.s. There have been some changes to the setup of my mentorship program. The price has gone up a bit, and I now only take students for a 3-month minimum. For some very good reasons, mind you, which you can find here –> http://www.martinstellar.com/starship-mentorprise-writing-coach/

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