Change is messy. Driving without a seat belt is dangerous. Experimenting with a new response to a bully can’t be worse than what it already is, so let’s go with messy.

Stepping into the street without looking both ways is dangerous. Brain surgery is dangerous. Weaving in and out of traffic at 80 miles an hour is dangerous. Those unspoken boundaries that stop me from making a move toward what I want might only exist inside my own head. Imaginary obstacles aren’t dangerous, and fear just feels messy.

I might not come back from dangerous, but I kinda like cleaning up messes. Especially the messes I make while building something beautiful.