Would you rather go all-in, or only venture part way?
Most of us will take the first option in theory. But we tend to follow the second one in practice.
One of our greatest talents is giving a full 95 percent. We do this for self-preservation — of mind, body and perception.
Going all-in in its truest sense is terrifying and potentially hazardous. Holding a little bit back seems like the safer play.
Yet, holding back comes with some nasty side effects. Most notably, it antagonizes our sense of accountability.
For when we give less than our all, we absolve ourselves of some responsibility.
In particular, we create a convenient forum for excuses when things don’t go right.
The buck no longer stops with us. We can name our own villains to make our lack of full commitment sound heroic.
We know this behavior is wrong. Immoral even. Yet, we still find ourselves falling into this obvious trap, time and again.
It’s human nature.
I understand this as well as anyone. I’ve long harped on the virtues of responsibility. On the importance of being conscientiously decisive. On the value of remaining accountable for our actions.
With every word I write and every idea I share, I seek to expand horizons and stamp out excuses.
Yet, I’ve done a poor job practicing what I preach. When others have asked why I haven’t taken the plunge on a daunting task, I’ve generally had a trusty excuse handy.
For the longest time, I didn’t think twice about this hypocrisy — the no excuse guy peddling excuses of his own.
But then, a friend shared six words that floored me.
Losers make excuses. Winners make money.
That message cut deep.
Not because I view the world as a zero-sum game of winners and losers. (I don’t.) Not because I’m keen on equating success with money. (I’m not.)
No, those words resonated because they quantified the value of excuses. A value that is precisely zero.
I don’t want to spend my days working on something worthless. And I’m sure I’m not alone in that regard.
Yet, each time we spout off another excuse, that’s exactly what we’re doing.
So, how do we dig our way out of this hole? How do we stop explaining away our actions to mask our cowardice?
We can start by hitting the throttle. By bursting through the barriers we build to self-censor our potential.
It’s time for us to stop demonizing heightened expectations. It’s time for us to stop fearing failure. It’s time for us to stop worrying about our external perception more than our internal growth.
It’s time for us to go all-in.
Excuses have no value in our narrative. Let’s leave them with no place to hide.