Taking the Plunge Into My Next Chapter—And Doing It Scared
The bus pulled up to a grassy clearing in Fiji where a canopy tent stood among a few towering telephone poles. It was warm and muggy, the sky was grey, and it looked like it would rain at any moment, which did nothing to calm my nerves. The Tony Robbins Life and Wealth Mastery facilitators divided us into groups and gave simple instructions:
Climb the pole.
Reach for the trapeze if you want.
Jump.
“Easy enough,” I thought. After all, I had already walked on hot coals at Tony’s Unleash the Power Within event in Newark, New Jersey.
But if I’m being honest?
The coals weren’t the scariest part.
It was being told we had to walk barefoot through the Prudential Center—my germaphobe nightmare. The coals were fine. The streets of Newark? That’s where my spirit almost left my body. As we waited in line, my anxiety flared. I wanted to get through it fast so I could get back to my bag and sanitize my entire life.
Note to self: next time, bring flip-flops, a wipe, and maybe some burn cream.
But I did it. I hopped across those coals, repeated Tony’s mantra on loop, and hobbled away feeling brave—not because of the fire walk, but because I survived the barefoot trek through Newark.
That experience taught me something important:
I can do hard things, even when I’m scared.
Each Climb Has Its Own Story
So when I stood at the base of the pole in Fiji, I wasn’t sure what to expect from myself. As I watched others climb, every person had a different experience:
Some moved quickly and confidently.
Some froze halfway up.
Some clung to the pole in tears.
And all of them were cheered on by the group.
I didn’t know which category I’d fall into.
At first, the climb wasn’t bad—until I reached the halfway point and noticed the tops of the trees rising to eye level. The mist in the air made the metal grips slick, forcing me to dry my hands on my athletic pants every few steps.
I whispered a prayer:
“Please don’t let it rain.”
My shoulder throbbed—a reminder of the surgery I was scheduled to have seven weeks later. Still, I wanted to reach the top. Why? I think I needed to prove to myself that I could, once again, do hard things.
The Top of the Pole
When I reached the top, the trees were far below me. The pole, no wider than a paint can, felt impossibly small under my feet. As a 5'0" woman wearing size 7 Hokas, balancing up there was… let’s say ambitious.
This was not the 6-inch step bench my trainer, Catherine, uses during workouts.
I took a deep breath, stayed low in a deep squat, and tried not to think about the man holding the rope around his waist. If I thought too hard about the physics of it all—what if he sneezed?!—I would freeze.
Then came the moment.
I stood up.
I focused straight ahead.
And I jumped.
The rope caught me, the facilitator hugged me, and I received the silicone bracelet that now symbolizes something far bigger than a climb:
I can do hard things. Even scared.
Doing It Scared in Real Life
A few months after Fiji, I took another jump—this time into my next professional chapter. After 28 years in public education and 6 years in Head Start, I retired to launch my business, Bo Knowz Learning.
That leap was different.
No harness.
No facilitator waiting at the bottom.
No crowd cheering.
Just me, my vision, and the recognition that I was stepping into an identity shift no one prepares you for.
Going from educator to entrepreneur required new skills, new systems, and new levels of vulnerability. Some days, it felt like climbing that pole all over again—slippery grips, shaky balance, heart pounding.
I’ll share more about that transition soon, because I know someone reading this is standing at the base of their own metaphorical pole, wondering if they should climb or stay grounded.
Your Turn to Climb
Whatever “next chapter” has been stirring in your heart—
whether it’s:
starting a hobby
creating that TikTok account
switching roles
applying for a job
building a side hustle
or launching a business
…I want you to hear this clearly:
Start. Even if you’re scared.
Especially if you’re scared.
Fear isn’t a stop sign—it’s a sign you’re stepping into something meaningful.
Your journey will look different from mine because you are different—uniquely gifted, uniquely called, uniquely brave.
Take the first small step.
Trust your footing, even if it feels shaky.
You are more ready than you think.
And remember:
You’ve got this.
Reflection Prompt
What is one step you can take this week toward the next chapter you're dreaming of—even if it scares you?
