I want to be perfectly qualified, experienced and confident in my ability. I want to love what I’m doing and know I’m good at it. But I’m no where close. I’m pretty good at faking it, but secretly I’m still dreading the day my coworkers figure out just how little I know. I really am not the best person for my job.
This week I came to the realization this is actually a good thing. In fact, it’s a very good thing. Let me explain.
It brings me back to the joy of running, not just the pressure of performance. It helps me convince myself I’m in less pain than I actually am. It gives me a reason to make eye contact with one of my biggest fans, and thank God for how blessed I am. And that just fires me up.
A coworker of mine, who is in his mid-forties, recently asked me a question to get my “youthful perspective.” I can’t remember what his question was, but I do know I responded in an opposite and much less enthusiastic way than many people my age would have, given the topic. His response was, “You wouldn’t be the best person to ask, you’re kind of an old soul.”