As I sit here, writing the last post before the project launches next week, I have a confession to make. I’m nervous. The nerves arrived on Friday afternoon. I couldn’t really catch my breath. My heart began pounding, my hands started shaking. It came over me like a cloud, and I couldn’t shake myself free.
It is Monday morning, and after a weekend with my family, a good night’s sleep, and all the healthy coping strategies in my toolbox…I am still nervous.
The nerves are not from a lack of preparation or planning. Goodness knows I have spent the better part of two months obsessing over every detail, looking at all the angles I could think of that needed examining, and setting up strategies to make this whole thing work.
The nerves are not from a lack of support or excitement. My community has showed up in exquisite form, ready to follow and participate.
The nerves are not from a lack of self-confidence. I believe in myself and my ability to execute hard things.
No, the nerves come from the unknown. The things that are out of my control. The unexpected twists and turns this whole endeavor could take at a moment’s notice. The way other people respond (or don’t respond) to what I’m about to create. A lack of control makes me nervous.
Part confessional, part vulnerability, this post is to let you know that while I am having the time of my life, and I love what’s about to begin, I do not have it all together. I choose to believe what is true, to work my plan, and to lean heavily on those who are in this with me. But that choice doesn’t always make the butterflies and shaky hands disappear.
Last night, we were at dinner with some families from our small group, and one of the husbands asked, “So, for this Ina In A Year project, are there literally three hundred and sixty-five recipes?”
I replied, “No. There are nine-hundred and fifty-three.”
He looked puzzled. “Then, how are you doing this?”
I replied, “By cooking approximately twenty recipes a week.”
He paused, taking it in. Then he said, “And I assume there is someone out there who has done this before and has documented the best way to execute something like this? Someone has written a training manual for this project, right?”
I replied, “No.”
The table fell silent for a minute, all eyes on me, and I felt my stomach drop again. When you let the scope and magnitude sink it, it can be a bit stunning.
So, what do I do when stunned, nervous, unable to predict things outside my control? I decide to be brave. Do the next thing next. Work through the nerves. Trust the system. And in this instance, I choose to have fun.
If you are reading this post, then you are with me, and I am thankful. Underneath the nerves, I really am excited, chomping at the bit to get started, and curious to see what unfolds over the next year.
One week left, guys. It’s going to be great!