On The Strange Comfort of Avoiding Oneself

Therein lies comfort in the anguish of avoiding one’s true potential. Some of the most destructive lies we tell are told in silence—in the vastness of our own minds, where the stage is set and the seats are filled by a public of one. There, beneath the noise, we rehearse our excuses like monologues, perfect our deflections, and convince ourselves that not yet is an act of patience, not fear.
We decorate the waiting room of our lives with books we won’t read, plans we won’t execute, and ideals we dare not embody. We call it preparation, as it is often the most dignified form of delay. After all, as long as we haven’t tried, we haven’t failed; as long as we haven’t failed, the fantasy of our greatness remains unthreatened.

"I am not afraid.
I was born to do this."

• Joan of Arc