The Courage to Share: Breaking Through Fear and Finding Your Voice
redactedThis morning, I was listening to Simon Sinek's podcast, "A Bit of Optimism." During the conversation, Simon described the process for writing one of his books: "All I really did was take the neuroscience of dopamine and oxytocin and overlay it with corporate culture to see what would happen." That simple statement got me thinking about the concept of novelty. What makes an idea novel? What contributions are worthy of sharing, publishing, or attribution? The Myth of Complete Originality My thoughts spiraled toward concepts I remember from Jeremy Utley and Perry Klebahn’s Ideaflow, or perhaps from Stephen Johnson's "Where Good Ideas Come From" — this notion that there are no truly new ideas, just novel combinations of existing ones. We often cling to the pride of authorship — a hubristic concept. But what if we let go of our ego-driven need for authorship and simply moved toward the best possible outcomes given the best available information? What if we stopped caring where ideas originated or seeking credit for their assembly? I know on some level that's Pollyannaish. There are process patents and intellectual property concerns for valid reasons. But honestly, how often are these relevant in our daily lives? The more vital question becomes: Am I emboldened to share what I think I know or what I've learned? If not broadly or publicly, then at least among colleagues and friends — why not share? The Fear Behind Resistance What are the points of resistance? Why would I not share? For me, it ultimately comes back to fear. But what exactly am I afraid of? • Afraid of not measuring up? Against whose standard? • Afraid of not seeming brilliant? By what definition of brilliance? • Afraid my contribution won't add value? But if I don't share it, there's zero chance it will. It's a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" circumstance. You might as well do. The Judgment Trap These fears ultimately come down to judgment — the fear of being judged. And I'm sure some of that builds on my own habit of judging others. Is their work new? Is it meaningful? Is it novel? Is it brilliant? If I'm doing that, maybe others are doing it about me, too. The Freedom of "Letting It Rip" How would my life be different — how would your life be different — if you just "let it rip?" If you didn't worry about the judgments of others and just put your ideas out there? What's the harm in sharing the things that moved you, were meaningful to you, or added value to your life? What about sharing those unique combinations of ideas that only you can see and assemble? Even if somebody doesn't see the value, what have you lost? My Confession I've been collecting thoughts, moments of inspiration, lessons learned, and insights derived for months now. I've worked diligently to hone these rough concepts into written pieces that I believe accurately reflect my thoughts and the value I've offered to others. These pieces could be more valuable if shared more broadly, yet I've been hoarding them inside Notion. I've only shared them with one person - a good friend (until now!) and no one else. I've spoken about them with a few others, but have done nothing public with them. Instead of publishing, I've spent time building a Substack page and thinking about it, but I've taken no action. The reason is exactly what I've described above: fear of judgment. The Leap So this piece represents an early step (along with some of the others I’ve pre-published in TranscendenCEO). A weekly cadence, a public commitment to share the insights I've compiled and the many more I will develop. It's time to let go of the fear and embrace the possibility that these ideas, whether fully original (unlikely) or novel recombinations, might resonate with someone else, spark a new thought, or offer comfort or clarity. In the end, sharing isn't really about me at all. It's about putting ideas into the world and letting them find the people who need them. What ideas have you been holding back? What's stopping you from sharing them? Maybe it's time for all of us to "let it rip."