Intention Is Safe. Action Has Teeth.

Without Waiting for the Perfect Version of Yourself to Arrive.

You know that feeling when you wake up with a legitimately good idea?

Not the kind you forget by lunch — but the kind that makes you sit up straighter and think, “Wait… what if I actually did this?”

Maybe it’s been living quietly in you for months.
Maybe it arrived uninvited.
Maybe you wrote it in a note on your phone at 2 a.m. and promised yourself you’d come back to it soon.

So you do what we tend to do.
You think it through. You organize it. You make lists — maybe even color-code them if you’re feeling especially capable.

You feel resourced and optimistic because yesterday you did all the “right” things. You slept. You hydrated. You moved your body. You ate something recognizable as food. You talked to someone who didn’t drain you. For a moment, life feels manageable. The idea feels possible.

And then comes the quiet pause — the place where intention floats, but action doesn’t quite land.

This is the part that always makes me curious.

Was it ever actually risky to take a step forward?
Or did it only feel risky because something would change — how others see you, how you see yourself, or how much you’d have to commit?

Because intention is safe. Intention is generous. It lets us imagine without becoming accountable to the imagining.

Action is different.
Action comes with exposure. And exposure invites response — feedback, consequence, momentum. All things that make the nervous system quietly suggest we return to the notes app and think about it a little longer.

We also tend to wait for the right state.
The right mood. The right energy. The right alignment of clarity, confidence, and ideal lighting conditions.

As if action only counts when it arrives alongside motivation and certainty.

This is why so many good ideas die in journals, drafts, and unshared documents. We’re waiting to feel like the version of ourselves who does the thing.

And just to be clear — I am not writing this from a mountaintop of productivity. It has taken me an impressively long time to put this piece out into the world, so this isn’t a lecture. It’s a description of very familiar water.

Action rarely arrives in the “right” state.
It usually shows up on an inconvenient Tuesday, with mediocre lighting, while you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

Intention is a whisper.
Action is often a mutter, followed by a shrug, followed by a small, unromantic step.

But that step is the only thing that actually changes anything.
Not the planning. Not the mood boards. Not the future projections or the number of minutes you meditated that morning.

What keeps most of us stuck isn’t fear of failure — that’s the dramatic version. It’s the quieter fear of becoming someone who follows through.

Because once you act, you’re no longer imagining the life you want.
You’re participating in it. And participation is vulnerable.

The part nobody tells you is how normal this is.
Everyone thinks they’re the only one standing in the doorway between intention and action, while the rest of us are bumping into each other in the same space, politely insisting someone else go first.

So maybe the risk isn’t in acting.
Maybe the risk is waiting so long that the idea goes stale — and once it’s stale to you, it’s gone.

If I have a suggestion, it’s this:
Don’t wait for the right version of you. Bring the one that’s here today — tired, uncertain, curious, imperfect — and let that person take the next step.

Action doesn’t need to be dramatic.
It can be sending an email. Opening a document. Saying the idea out loud to one person who won’t rush you or fix you.

Or beginning a conversation with someone who can help you stay with what’s emerging, instead of talking yourself out of it again.

If that’s useful, you’re welcome to book a complimentary session with me.
And if it’s not, take the step anyway.

Just don’t leave the idea parked forever in intention.
It deserves more than that — and honestly, so do you.