Why I Stopped Waiting to Feel Ready

So How Did We Get Here?

It all started as most things do — with a dream and a plan. I had many dreams and even more plans on how I was going to realize those dreams. And boy, did I have plans. I was the master planner. Even my plans had mini plans of their own.

These weren't your average run of the mill plans either — they were elaborate, motion picture, que the credits type plans. But alas some of the best green-lit productions never see the light of day. That was often the fate of mine.

You see, while I'm superb at making plans, let's just say my follow-through game is … under development. After all those plans, all I had to show for it was a mild dopamine addition and a collection of cute notebooks filled with excellent hand writing. Seriously — I write pretty. 😊

Then one day, I sat down and began to craft my most elaborate plan yet …

The Illusion of Readiness

For years, I thought being prepared was the same as being ready. I told myself that once I had the perfect plan, the perfect timing, and maybe a little divine sign from the universe, I'd finally start.

Oh - but not before I had all of the information. If there were no unknowns and every variable was thoughtfully accounted for, nothing bad could happen, right?

So I planned harder. I researched deeper. I bought new notebooks — because this project deserved its own special place. After all, this was "the one".

But the truth was, my dogged pursuit of perfection was standing in the way of any real progress. Somehow, I convinced myself that if I couldn't do something perfectly, it wasn't worth doing at all. Any hint of failure would cue the loud whispers of ridicule and judgement — and who wants to suffer through that?

Planning became my way of feeling safe — busy enough to seem productive, structured enough to avoid the scary part: actually doing the thing.

I convinced myself that readiness was a destination, something I could arrive at with enough effort. But readiness isn't a milestone. It's a mirage.

Every time I said, "I'll start when…," I pushed my dreams another inch down the road. And if I'm honest, there was comfort in that — because "someday" never asks you to risk failure.

The Perfect Plan

Remember I said this all started with a dream … and a plan?

During the COVID-19 pandemic, I started learning about the stock market. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn! I mean, this was great! You mean to tell me people make money by staring at red and green candles and placing bets on the future direction of stocks? Sign me up!

Eventually, I got to a place where I felt my day job was getting in the way of me making millions in the market. I spent many days thinking, if only I didn't have to work this pesky job, I'd be able to focus on the becoming a market millionaire.

So I made a plan — because that's what I do best. Nothing was gonna get between me and my millions!

And oh, did I plan. I mapped out exactly how I would save up enough money to cover my expenses for several months (you know, just in case the market millions were running late). I rehearsed how I would break the news to my employer — who, obviously would be devastated. I even designed how I would spend my days, each starting with a vlog worthy morning routine.

Only … nothing went according to plan!

Inspired Action

"Readiness doesn't arrive — it reveals itself."

When my perfect plan fell apart, something surprising happened — I didn't fall apart with it.

In that quiet space between what I thought I wanted and what actually was, I learned about something called inspired action — the art of moving when your heart whispers go, even if your mind still wants a full itinerary.

At first, it felt reckless. For someone like me — a recovering master-planner — the idea of acting without all of the data was unthinkable. But I noticed something: every time I followed that nudge, even in small ways, life opened up a little more. My creativity returned. My curiosity bloomed. The world felt spacious again.

Inspired action doesn't demand perfection; it just asks for participation. When I stopped micromanaging every detail, I started to feel the flow instead of forcing it. Things didn't become instantly easy, but they became lighter.

These days, I give myself permission to learn as I go. I trade perfection for grace. I start before I feel ready — trusting that clarity comes in motion. And every time I do, I'm reminded that sometimes the best plan … is simply to begin.

Are You Inspired Yet?

Funny enough, this very blog is the product of inspired action. I didn't have a blueprint, a content calendar, or even the faintest idea what the "right" first post would be. I just felt that tug — the one that said, start now, figure it out later.

And here we are.

Assembly Required is the beginning of a new kind of building for me — one rooted in trust, curiosity, and movement. I don't know exactly where this road leads, but that's part of the adventure. My plan — if we can even call it that — is to keep following what feels aligned and share what I discover along the way.

If you've ever found yourself waiting to feel ready, consider this your nudge: start assembling. Start exploring. Start becoming.

I'd love for you to join me on this journey — not because I have all the answers, but because I finally stopped waiting to find them before I began.