When you do the thing you think you can’t

Fun fact—I don’t write this newsletter until the day I send it.

It’s a habit that drives my team a little bit crazy, because they like to work ahead and sometimes my last minute tendencies can leave them scrambling to proofread then format the email and get it ready to send.

And while I don’t mind working ahead for some things, the thing I love most about writing this weekly letter is that it’s just REAL. I often don’t even know what I’m going to say until I sit down to write, but somehow it always just comes together. And if I try to write it ahead of time, it never works.

But this morning, as I was heading downstairs for my morning stroll around the property with my dogs, I said a quick little prayer, knowing that afterward I’d be sitting down to write this letter.

God, give me the right words to say today. And please give me something to write about.

And then on my walk, I glanced at my phone and saw this memory pop up from 10 years ago today.

My oldest daughter Maggie, dressed as an angel for her school Christmas pageant.

It brought me right back to that moment.

She was 8 at the time, and I remember so vividly how she came home from school one day, a couple weeks before Christmas, and proudly announced to my husband Chuck and I that she had been given a solo in her school’s Christmas pageant.

“I’m an angel, mommy,” she said excitedly, “and I get to sing the first verse of Angels We Have Heard on High all by myself!”

And as we told her how great that was, and how happy and excited we were for her, I remember how Chuck and I exchanged knowing, worried glances. Neither of us had to say a word—we were both thinking the same thing: DISASTER.

You see, as much as we’re probably not supposed to label our kids, Maggie was our “shy” one, so quiet and timid and easily embarrassed that it was almost painful.

Just a few weeks before the pageant, she had gotten so nervous delivering her presentation at the science fair that she could hardly speak, even though we had practiced with her at least a dozen times. And that was just a few dozen people. This would be hundreds.

As the pageant got closer, my mama heart got more and more nervous for her.  What if her nerves got the best of her?  What if she couldn’t do it?  What if she failed?

Thankfully, I never shared those concerns with her. Instead I told her that courage doesn’t mean never feeling scared, but that courage sometimes means being afraid and doing it anyway.

I wasn’t sure if she believed me, but then her big moment came.  

She walked down the aisle in her little white dress, halo above her head, singing loudly and clearly with the voice of an angel. 

She did it scared. It was beautiful. And yes, I cried. Proud, happy tears.

But now, looking  back, I can see so clearly how in that moment, something shifted for Maggie.

Her courage inspired me, but it changed her too.

Just a few months later, she asked us if she could audition for the role of Young Cosette in a local production of Les Mis, and she nailed it.

In middle school, she joined the Drama Club.

In high school, she was a cheerleader.

Now I understand that her silence is not fear. It’s self-assurance.

And I can’t say for sure whether that one Christmas pageant, ten years ago today,  was the moment that changed her life forever, but I do know that courage expands every time you exercise it.

When you do the thing you think you can’t.

When you push beyond what feels comfortable or safe or known.

When you show up and dare to take space in the world.

And that’s not just true for shy little girls—it’s true for you too.

Brené Brown once noted that “courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” Along those same lines, Eleanor Roosevelt famously said, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.'"

In other words? Do it scared.

There are a million ways our courage is tested every day. Sometimes it’s in big things, like daring to start a business or commit to a weight loss program or leave an abusive relationship or speak up and step in when someone else is being mistreated. 

But more often, it’s in the small things that don’t always feel so significant. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I was wrong.’  Daring to speak up in a meeting. Showing up at the gym when you’re 50 pounds overweight. Saying no. Saying yes. Setting goals that you might fail at. Being honest with yourself and others about what you want or need. Asking for help.

And every time you flex that courage muscle, you get stronger. You get braver. You dare a little more.

And so, my challenge for you this week, as we head into Christmas and into a brand new year, is to find your courage. What area of your life is challenging you right now, or asking you to be brave? What feels uncomfortable or unknown? What requires you to push beyond your comfort zone, even just a little bit, so that this time next year you can look back and be glad you did?

It’s a big question, friends, and there are no easy answers. But as always, I love hearing back from you so feel free to hit ‘reply’ to this email and let me know what’s on your mind!

Live with purpose, friend, and have a very Merry Christmas!

xoxo, Ruth

P.S. This will be my last newsletter of the year—I’ll see you again in 2025!

This week’s podcast episode…

What’s cooking in my kitchen…

Here’s the recipe I shared last week:

The latest from my Instagram…

Instagram is my jam! If you’re there too, I’d love to connect with you—find me at @RuthSoukup or @ruthsoukupbiz for online business tips!

ruthsoukup

View more on Instagram