Went through an old journal last night and I was surprised to see a total lack of fear on the pages. Three years ago at this time, I was on what I call my "creative pilgrimage" to Wisconsin for 4 months - a trip that I took with the purpose of figuring out how I could go fully independent in my work. I didn't know what I was going to make. But I knew I needed to make, and given the time to try things maybe I'd figure it out eventually. It was a shot in the dark, and I was trusting the good Lord to drop some hints. Pretty irresponsible.
My dad is a hardwood floorsman, and my mom got into calligraphy when she was raising us. It took me until this trip to try painting LETTERS on FLOORBOARDS. Ever since this creative pilgrimage, I've been making a sustainable full-time living by painting signs and doing hand lettering for local businesses. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I never left my friends/job/life and took that trip. Eventually I might have realized that I've always loved lettering and craftsmanship and gone from there. Or, I would have stayed comfortable, doing other crap I don't care about for a buck.
To be fair, it ain't perfect. I've had a season of less clarity and more fear. Sometimes I feel so close to the situation that I get nearsighted. But so many things recently (including 3yrs-ago-me) have opened my eyes to the original vision, and I can feel the fear disappearing. Ultimately, this is scary sometimes. You know what, though? Better than being boring.
Long story long, I want you to ask yourself: what do you care about? What are you good at? Can you use them to help people? Because that's probably your calling. You've got those inclinations for a reason, pal. Now, I charge you: go & friggin' get it.