Brave Enough for the Next Step

This weekend I’m getting ready for my first worm bin workshop.

I’m excited about it. I’m also nervous.

That combination feels familiar these days.

A lot of what I’m doing with Iowa Worm Farm is new to me. The business is new. Teaching is new. Sharing the journey publicly is new. Even posting videos and putting my thoughts out into the world still makes me uncomfortable more often than I’d like to admit.

I think sometimes people assume bravery looks like confidence. Like the brave person is the one who feels no fear and walks in without hesitation.

That’s not what bravery looks like to me.

Bravery is being scared and doing it anyway.

That’s the version I’m trying to practice in my own life, and it’s the version I want my kids to learn too.

Because the truth is, I’m scared pretty often.

Scared of getting things wrong.
Scared of looking foolish.
Scared of being judged.
Scared of putting something out there and having someone point out the flaws.
Scared of being seen before I feel fully ready.

And if I let fear make every decision, the logical answer would be to stay home, keep quiet, never post the video, never teach the workshop, never start the business, and never take the chance.

But that’s no way to live.

There’s a line I’m trying to walk here. A balance beam of sorts.

When I put myself out there, I do not want my kids to think courage means pretending. I do not want them to believe brave people are the ones who already have it all figured out. I do not want them to think confidence comes first and action comes second.

I’d rather they see the truth.

I’d rather they see me nervous and afraid and willing to take the step anyway.

Because maybe that’s what courage actually looks like in real life.

Not certainty.
Not polish.
Not perfection.

Just a person taking the next small, scary step.

I know one of the things I fight most is perfectionism.

Perfectionism sounds noble sometimes, but for me it often looks like fear with better branding. It shows up when I’m editing a video and getting stuck on tiny details that do not actually matter. It shows up when I hesitate to share an idea until I feel 100% sure. It shows up when I tell myself I just need a little more time, a little more clarity, a little more certainty before I move.

But most of the time, that is not wisdom.
It’s fear stalling progress.

What I’m trying to learn myself, and what I’m trying to model for my kids, is something simpler than that.

Do the work as well as you can.

Then take the next logical step, even if it feels small and even if it scares you.

Take it without knowing exactly where your foot will land.

Trust that you can adjust.
Trust that you can learn.
Trust that you can recover from being wrong.
Trust that forward is still better than frozen.

Lately I’ve been reminded of this while watching a nervous little animal hover just out of reach. You can see the desire for connection. You can see the hesitation too. It wants to come closer. It wants the comfort. It wants the safety. But fear keeps it hanging back right at the edge.

That feels pretty human to me.

A lot of us live like that. We stand just outside the reach of the thing we want, not because we do not want it badly enough, but because fear is powerful.

Maybe bravery is simply the willingness to move a little closer anyway.

So this weekend I’ll show up and teach the workshop.

I’ll probably still be nervous.

But I’m going to do it anyway.

That’s the example I want to set.

For my kids.
For myself.
And maybe for anyone else who needs the reminder.

You do not have to feel fearless.
You do not have to have it all figured out.
You just have to be brave enough for the next step.