So imagine years from now.

Way down the road, you're older, sitting on your front porch, kind of fists propped up under

your chin, you're staring out, and thinking about your life.

You're thinking about the decisions you made, the things you did and didn't do.

What would you be thinking? What would you change? Would there be regrets?

Now there's a lot of research around this topic and in one of the most important books written on it by

Brani Ware talks about the regrets of the dying.

And one of them is wishing I had the courage to live a life true to myself.

So you're sitting there, you're looking out and you're imagining what if you acted differently?

What if you tried?

What if you started?

And you go back to that moment where you were looking fate in the eye and you had to make that

decision, right?

That singular decision. It showed its face repeatedly,

but the decision more or less remained the same. It was vulnerability or safety. Choose one.

Vulnerability or safety. Safety. Safety. That innate desire to not disrupt or challenge the way things are.

Even when you know in your core, there's more out there.

See, safety is the wolf in sheep's clothing.

Watching life happen through a window is incredibly safe.

But it means you're forfeiting the essence of life in exchange for a front row seat to watch others live it.

It means you don't capture that adrenaline that drives us. You don't take part in the emotion that excites us. It means you don't capture that adrenaline that drives us. You don't take part in the emotion that excites us.

It means you don't meet the people who would change your life

...