Hey Reader,
So the truth is...
I have no idea what i am doing.
For the past 31yrs of my life, I have fumbled my way forward without ever knowing where it would lead me.
In all my chapters, i've taken big action way before I had any proof I was good enough. WAY before I belonged in those rooms, standing next to those 'people that were better than me'.
Taking big action without proof is exactly what kicked off my cycling career and landed me my first contract with the best domestic Team in Australia at 19yrs old.
I remember rocking up at this state-level race in Melbourne, it was one of the first women-only races I'd ever done on the bike... and I had no clue who any of the riders there were.
Early on in the race, while everyone was looking at everyone else, waiting for them to do something... I attacked hard out of the peloton.
And they chased me down.
So I went again. And they chased me down.
I go again, I get chased down.
Until eventually I couldn't keep attacking, because I was now dropped from the main bunch, and pulled out of the race.
No, I did not finish that race.
But Jules saw something in me... and a week or so later, he called me offering a contract to race with Team Holden for the 2012 racing season.
I was torn, because earlier that year I'd qualified for the junior World Championships in triathlon (16-19yrs)... and saying yes to cycling would mean saying no to tri's.
I remember is digging deep inside me to ask "what do you really love?"
"I love riding my bike" was the answer. So without checking for proof, or validation, or permission, I took big action, and said 'yes' to Jules.
From there, we basically took on the world together. He coached me to my first NRS (National Road Series) stage win, then my first NRS tour win, then my first overall NRS aggregate win, multiple National titles, a pro contract, Commonwealth Games, a World Tour Podium, and all the bits in between.
All of it happened because I took a leap of faith, and learnt to fly on the way down.
That's how I've done everything in life, and sure, it's got me pretty bloody far...
But most importantly, it's meant i've spent very little time doing things I don't love, and a lot of time making memories filled with what lights my soul on fire.
BUT
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This morning I caught myself in a rut
You know the kind of rut that says 'everything is fine, but... fine isn't really what I'm looking for'
And it hit me...
I think I've stopped flying.
I think I've been sitting on the edge of the cliff, scared to use my wings.
Worried they're not ready. Staying 'a little longer' just to make sure I've grown enough feathers.
I used to fly WAY before my wings were ready. And that's what made them strong.
I used to fly just to find out what it was like out there... but now the adventure feels 'too risky'
Maybe it's because, in the past I've taken those big leaps, and sometimes it hasn't ended well...
Sometimes I've fallen all the way down, and it bloody hurt.
Because... it takes SO MUCH courage, excitement, and self belief to run to that edge... and SO MUCH TRUST to take the leap.
And you do it because you really believe so deeply, that you're capable of soaring.
But then sometimes, when you smack down
It's almost as if your self belief betrayed you
And you had no right to leap in the first place
You weren't ready for that... you should have waited. Prepared more. Made sure it was safe to press go.
So yeah, this morning I realised that I've unintentionally set up camp a few meters back from the edge, and as it turns out, it's become quite comfortable here. So much so, that I kind of forgot I had wings.
And that's what happens.
Our brain and nervous system go through a hard thing, and they work together (understandably) to convince us not to take that big action again, because (of course) we don't want to get hurt again.
So we wait, and wait, and wait... and then all of the sudden it's been so long in between leaps, that it feels normal to be normal.
It's safe on the ground. Being in the air again feels irresponsible. Maybe even delusional.
To leave camp and venture out to the edge again would probably be insane... let alone stretch out your wings and fly.
Because what if you leave, and then you can't come back? What if your camp gets ruined? Or what if you take the leap and you fall down again? What if you get hurt? What if you fly, and you don't actually like it? OR what if you try to fly, and you're not actually good enough? Is it REALLY worth it to leave camp?
But close your eyes for a sec, and just pretend in this moment, you decided it was time...
do you remember the the freedom?
the exhilaration
the self-pride
the pure joy of it
Do you remember that feeling?
Yeah ok, fine - its also scary as hell
Because no one can predict what will happen when you lean forward and let go...
THERE IS NO PROOF THAT IT WILL WORK
And maybe that's the whole bloody point.
We've been waiting for proof. Proof we're ready. Proof we're good enough. Proof we belong.
But proof never comes first.
You take the leap of faith, way before you're ready... and you learn to fly on the way down.
THAT'S WHEN THE MAGIC HAPPENS
Not before. And sure as sh*t not at that campsite you got used to calling home, just bc it got familiar.
(be honest, it's not actually THAT comfy)
Consider this your moment to check in with yourself...
Where have you set up camp?
When was the last time you stretched out your wings?
What big action have you been avoiding, bc it feels too risky?
What kind of proof are you waiting for, before you let yourself fly?
Here's to falling, flying, and remembering that you are magnificent without proof.
Keep shining bright,
x
Shannon
PS you know the drill... DM me on IG @shannonmalseed and share your answers with me. Let's fly together ;)
PPS if you want me to help you find your courage, self belief, and excitement again, 1:1 coaching applications are currently open - you can apply for a free discovery call here.