On Thursday night, I ran into the pitch-black woods to chase down a fox that had one of my chickens. In other circumstances, I’d be scared as hell running through acres of darkness. But hearing my little chicken being dragged off to its death turned me into a fearless superwoman.
And I’ll be damned if I didn’t get back my hen.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the beast mode that I tapped into that night. And I’ve been wondering: why can’t I do that more often? Not only for a helpless chicken, but for myself? If I advocated for myself the way I did for my critters, I’d be unstoppable.
So that’s the plan for the week…pretend I’m about to be eaten.
Reader, I’m joking a little, but I'm also a little serious. What if we didn’t wait for our beast mode to kick in? What if we chased our dreams as if our lives depended on it and told our fears to scram? This week, I’m going to try to go hard for myself, and I invite you to try it too. Let’s run into that dark woods called life on our own behalf. Foxes be damned. I’ll see you next Monday. -Em
