That line hit me square in the chest when I first heard it.
“The life you want is on the other side of the life you’re avoiding.”
It’s uncomfortable because it’s true.
Most of us don’t avoid failure. We avoid exposure. The risk of being seen trying. The risk of looking foolish. The risk of being misunderstood.
But that’s the toll you pay for a real life. You don’t get to skip the awkward part where you doubt yourself, where it’s messy, where you’re building something that no one asked for but you.
When I think about it, the work that’s pushed me forward has always come from the moments I wanted to avoid. The ugly canvases. The false starts. The weeks where I felt like I was painting into a void. That’s the stuff that builds you, not the applause that comes later.
Avoidance is seductive. It disguises itself as patience, planning, even perfectionism. But all it really does is keep you safe from the very thing that might change you.
The life you want. The one that feels aligned, creative, full and probably isn’t waiting behind a new strategy, or a lucky break, or someone’s permission. It’s behind the thing you’ve been dodging.
For me, that’s showing up to the studio even when I’d rather hide behind the excuse of “not feeling it.” It’s making the next mark anyway.
Because on the other side of avoidance is movement.
And on the other side of movement is freedom.