On October 21, 2009, I wrote about The Moth for the first time.
I’d been listening to their podcast for a while and wrote that I was “flirting with the idea of creating a Connecticut version of The Moth,” which was then based in New York, Los Angeles, Detroit, and Chicago.
But that day – October 21, 2009 – I learned that The Moth was looking for potential storytellers as they prepared to launch their new Moth Radio Hour, so I pitched my first story to them on The Moth pitchline, which still exists today.
I submitted a two-minute pitch about my pole vaulting escapades in high school.
That pitch went unanswered.
So, 629 days later, on July 12, 2011, I went to New York City to tell a story at a Moth StorySLAM competition at the famed Nuyorican Poets Cafe. I dropped my name in the hat, and when it was called, I told my first story onstage.
It was a story about my pole vaulting escapades in high school.
I won that StorySLAM competition, and thus, my career in storytelling had begun.
That single competition changed my life forever. Since that first StorySLAM in 2011, I’ve competed in 103 Moth StorySLAMs in New York City, Boston, Seattle, and Washington, DC, winning 59 of them. I’ve also competed in 33 GrandSLAM championships, winning 9 of them, and I’ve performed in The Moth’s prestigious Mainstage shows many times nationwide.
All that success led me and Elysha to launch that “Connecticut version of The Moth” in the spring of 2013 which we called Speak Up. We’ve produced more than 100 shows throughout Connecticut and Massachusetts in theaters large and small, and our stages have been graced with famed storytellers, local celebrities, comedians, authors, first-timers, the children of Holocaust survivors, the founder of The Moth, the artistic director of The Moth, and a United States Senator.
All of that success soon led to my performing career, my consulting career, my online business, TEDx Talks, standup comedy, magazine columns, solo shows, comic books, and Storyworthy, my book on storytelling.
Another book on storytelling will land in bookstores next year.
Along the way, I’ve met some amazing people. Shared stages with famous people. Made many new friends.
It all sounds lovely, but please don’t miss the enormous problem with my journey:
629 days.
I waited 629 days to finally make it to New York City to tell a story.
The Moth was already producing StorySLAMs back in 2009, and I was well aware of their existence. Less than 120 miles south of my home, a stage existed already where I was welcomed to perform, but I waited 629 days to finally do so.
Almost two years passed before I finally found my way to Manhattan to begin my journey.
What stopped me?
Mostly fear, which stops most people from making their dreams come true.
Not the fear of public speaking. I’ve been speaking publicly all my life and have blessedly never been afraid of standing before people and speaking about almost anything.
Instead, I was afraid of the unknown. Afraid of failure. Fearful of not being good enough. Afraid of not being even close to being good enough. Afraid that I was an imposter. Afraid that I didn’t belong amongst the best storytellers in the world.
I was also trapped by the tremendous power of inertia. It’s far easier to remain in a place of comfort and security than move forward into struggle, hardship, and uncertainty. Most people lead lives of quiet desperation, not because they don’t have dreams, but because the action required to make dreams come true is costly, risky, and hard.
I also lacked vision. I failed to recognize how opening the door to storytelling might lead me to a whole new world. Instead of allowing for the possibility of transformation, I viewed storytelling as a singular, granular opportunity, absent any likelihood of expansion.
Therefore it could wait. I wasn’t in any rush to make that dream come true.
Thankfully, I only waited 629 days to begin my journey. It only took me 629 days to conquer my fear, escape the gravitational pull of inertia, and move forward.
Unfortunately, tragically, I waited 629 days to begin my journey. Nearly two years of lost possibility.
Where might I be today had I not allowed two years to pass before converting my dream into action? I’ll never know.
It’s impossible to measure the cost of possibility unrealized. It’s impossible to know what might have been.
But here is what I know for sure:
Delay is death. Delay kills possibility. Delay murders your future and destroys your dreams. Every day of delay increases the chances that it will metastasize into immutability.
Delay long enough and you will find yourself in a state of quiet, permanent desperation
Do not delay. Delay is death.
