My daughter, Clara, likes to stay under the radar at school. She’s a high school sophomore with many great friends, but she likes to keep a low profile.
School isn’t always easy for her. She has autism, so although most people are kind, accepting, and lovely, some are not. So she tends to stick with her friends, look to make new friends whenever possible (including the one she made this week) and keep her head down.
I’ve been asked to speak at her school many times, but she’s asked me to pass, not wanting my presence to shine a light on her.
I shone that light on her in middle school when I came to speak at her school. That, combined with the fact her school uses one of my novels in her curriculum, cast a light a little too bright for her liking.
So I stay away. I understand.
Yesterday, Clara found herself in the auditorium with her entire sophomore class—hundreds of teenagers—listening to a speaker talk about, among other things, bullying. It turns out Elysha and I know this speaker. He’s told a story for Speak Up, the storytelling organization Elysha and I run.
At one point in his talk, he invited students to step forward and tell a story about a time they were bullied, the person doing the bullying, or a bystander.
He waited.
No one moved.
He waited some more.
Still, no one volunteered.
Then, as Clara described it to me, she said to herself, “Screw it,” and stood up, made her way to the front of the auditorium. Standing before her class, she told a story about being bullied in middle school.
I couldn’t believe it. The girl who tries to keep a low profile had placed herself directly before her peers to tell a story.
“How did it go?” I asked.
“Great,” she said with a smile. “After I told my story, other kids started getting up to tell theirs.”
Not only did she stand in front of hundreds of her classmates and tell a story, but she also made it possible for others to do the same.
I was so proud of her.
Later that night, I told her how much I loved the way she decided to stand up and the words she used:
“Screw it.”
“Why?” she asked.
I told her that I see people miss opportunities all the time because of excuses like:
“It’s too hard.”
“It’s too scary.”
“It’s a Tuesday night.”
“It’s too far away.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“It doesn’t sound all that fun.”
“I don’t know anyone who will be there.”
“I have too much work to do.”
“I have to get up early the next morning.”
“I don’t like to drive at night.”
“No one will like it.”
“The weather looks iffy.”
“I’m just too tired.”
“She’ll probably say no.”
“It might not work.”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“I think I’ll just stay home tonight.”
So many people miss out on so much because doing otherwise would mean overcoming hurdles they seemingly love to set out for themselves. Excuses abound. As a result, people’s lives are so much smaller than they often need to be.
A reason to avoid doing something is always easy to find, so people do just that. They find justifiable, reasonable, and rational reasons to stay home, cease the expansion of their perceived boundaries, and avoid taking chances. They remain inside their comfort zone, keeping their lives predictable, repetitive, and manageable.
Wouldn’t it be great if more people said, “Screw it,” and did something few others seem willing to do?
Wouldn’t it be great if more people said, “Screw it,” and did something they never thought they could do?
Wouldn’t it be great if more people said, “Screw it,” and stopped allowing fear, inconvenience, uncertainty, and the unknown to keep their lives small, limited, and expected?
I told Clara I loved what she did yesterday because she purposefully pushed against a boundary she had set for herself and took a risk. She did something no one else was willing to do. She found the courage to overcome fear and the strength to make her life a little more interesting by rising up while everyone else remained seated.
“You did what others would not,” I told her. “You did what you could not, except then you could.”
I explained to her that this is the formula for a bigger, better, brighter, more interesting, more impactful, more connected, and more meaningful life.
Thoreau was right when he said. “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”
It’s a damn tragedy.
Want to avoid such a tragedy for yourself?
Perhaps take a lesson from Clara and say, “Screw it.” Toss caution and your multitude of excuses to the wind and do the good, hard, sometimes scary thing. Step out of your comfort zone. Do something new. Meet new people. Say yes instead of no.
Say, “Screw it,” and give it a try.
Two simple words that might just open the world up a little bit more for you, and that is always a glorious thing.
