Couple weeks ago, I was researching charisma, the ability to build rapport, that sort of thing. It led me down the path of the Charismatic Man: the Bill Clinton’s, the Dale Carnegie’s, the Neil Strauss’s…
All of which were extremely interesting.
But not the right context for me.
A familiar voice creeped into my ear as the deadline for this research approached, a voice rooted deep in the lizard brain, strong and powerful — but one of very limited vocabulary:
Why did you take on this project? You’re not smart enough to figure it out.
You’re running out of time. You’re going to look like a fool.
This is more than you can handle.
I can’t say that I whirled around and told the voice to STFU, like the person at the movie theater who shouts at the Cell-Phone-Talker and everyone claps for. I’m not a “STFU” kinda guy…
I’m more a trench fighter. I dug deeper, like a seasoned WWI solider. Then I held my position, and paused… waiting for the signal to go “over the top.”
Then, I got the signal.