Fear holds you back.

Seneca once said, “We suffer more in imagination than in reality.”

But what does that truly mean? Recently, I’ve been putting it to the test, and I believe it holds undeniable weight. Too often, we let our minds spiral, ruminating endlessly on tasks we know we need to tackle, conjuring monsters where there are only shadows.

Fear is the silent adversary lurking behind every goal. When starting something new, it creeps in, whispering doubts: What if I fail? What if no one likes my work? What happens when things get hard? These questions are natural—healthy, even. But they are only as powerful as the energy you give them.

To master fear, you must first see it for what it truly is: a construct of the mind. Life rarely aligns with our expectations, but the question isn’t if things will go wrong—it’s how you’ll respond when they do. 

The Stoics knew this well. They practiced premeditatio malorum, the premeditation of evils. The idea? Picture the worst-case scenario before it happens. Imagine every detail—the discomfort, the loss, the chaos. By doing so, you rob the unknown of its power. It’s a lifelong practice.

Take losing your job. The thought alone can feel suffocating—relationships severed, income gone, uncertainty stretching endlessly ahead. The mind immediately leaps to sacrifices: no more nights out, no indulgent comforts. It’s bleak, yes. But here’s the truth: hardship is temporary. Every storm has its end. And when it passes, you’ll be left with a choice—let it forge you into something stronger or let it scatter you into pieces.

Losing a job doesn’t strip you of worth. It doesn’t define your future. It’s simply the closing of one chapter. Look back with respect for what you’ve learned, then turn the page. Living in the past is like dragging chains through the present—it slows your steps when you should be running forward.

Action is the antidote to fear, doubt, and complacency. Say your goal is to lose weight, but you dread stepping on the scale. That number staring back at you feels like judgment—but in reality, it’s your baseline, your starting point. From there, you act: plan your meals, take a ten-minute walk, enlist accountability from a friend. Each small step weakens fear’s grip. Every action builds momentum.

Dedication dissolves fear over time. Dreams don’t come to those who simply wish for them—they come to those who work for them. Want to be a musician? Practice daily. Don’t have the time? Make it. The only obstacle between you and your dream is the gap between intent and action. If it matters to you, you’ll prioritize it. If you don’t, be honest—you just don’t want it badly enough.

Discipline is self-respect in motion. It’s showing up for yourself, even when no one else is watching. As Ron Swanson put it: “Don’t half-ass two things. Whole-ass one thing.” Drive gets you started; persistence keeps you in the game. Most people quit before they see results because the road is longer and harder than they imagined. Be the exception.

Ask yourself: Do I want to live with the regret of never trying? That’s fear’s ultimate test. Is the discomfort of facing it worse than the regret of never acting at all? For most of us, the answer is clear.

Fear is real, but it’s also manageable. It’s not a stop sign—it’s a signal you’re growing. The more you face what scares you, the more you realize fear is just a shadow cast by the mind. Unless it’s actual danger—then maybe rethink your motives. Today, take one step toward what you fear. Write the email, hit the gym, say yes to the opportunity that terrifies you. Let fear be the fire that fuels your progress, not the chains that hold you back.

Keep getting after it.