
I woke up at 3 a.m. Sunday morning in Bettendorf, Iowa. I was sweating. My heart was racing. It was like the panic attacks I used to have in the nineties.
What was going on?
I was visiting my mom, and second-guessing myself. It was a space that I used to be in all the time. My mom virtually lives there. For decades, I did, too. I didn’t know there was an option to be any other way.
I’d just bought a professional-level tenor saxophone in Denver—a serious upgrade from the beginner horns I’d been playing for two and a half years—and suddenly, in the middle of the night, I was asking myself, what have I done?
Who am I to own a pro horn?
What will people think of me, buying that nice a horn?
Do I deserve it? Can I ever make full use of it?
What Was Really Going On
That’s when I saw what was really going on.
This wasn’t about the saxophone. It was about my commitment.
What was I actually committed to? To impressing people? To pretending I’m a better musician than I really am? To earning status through buying nice things? To showing off?
It wasn’t any of those things.
Commitment Is Not About Worthiness
I wasn’t saying I was ready for a pro instrument. I was saying I was ready to be committed to mastery.
I wasn’t buying the horn because I thought I was a professional player. I was buying the horn because I wanted nothing in the way of my becoming as good as I could be.
This isn’t a two-and-a-half-year thing. It’s not even a ten-year thing. It’s the rest of my life.
I didn’t want my equipment—or my own self-doubt—to get in the way of the level of growth I’m chasing. The horn was just a symbol of that commitment.
Could I continue to learn on my beginner horn? Absolutely. But it was getting in my way, yes, from a technical perspective, but more importantly, from a mindset perspective.
Every time I blow that horn it reinforces the idea that I am a beginner, and I want more. I am more. Even now.
And the more I thought about it, the more I realized how many other places I’ve held myself back by staying “half-in.”
The Hidden Cost of Hedge-Your-Bets Thinking
At the start of my coaching career, I did the same thing many founders do. I tested everything: job hunting, consulting, coaching—waiting to see which lane “popped.”
None of them did.
Momentum didn’t come until I declared, I’m all-in on coaching.
Most entrepreneurs think they’re managing risk by keeping options open. In reality, they’re diluting focus. They want to be successful—as long as there’s no risk in being successful.
They half commit to success to protect themselves from failure.
Does that feel familiar?
That kind of half-commitment keeps you safe, and stuck, at the same time.
Identity Follows Declaration
The real shift happens when you stop saying I’m trying this and start saying this is who I am.
When I said, I am a coach, everything changed.
When I said, I am a musician, everything changed again.
You can’t wait for proof before committing. Commitment creates the proof.
Act From the Future You Already See
If there’s a version of you who has already succeeded, how does that person act today? What habits, tools, and environments support them?
I practice every day, like the master I am becoming.
I make bold proposals that my future coaching self is proud of.
That’s the standard. Not your current comfort zone.
For musician me, that meant buying the saxophone—and backing it with the hours, the instruction, the study.
For founder you, it might mean the team you recruit, the product you launch, the board members and experts and coach you hire to advise you.
Pick Now
You can’t hedge your way into mastery.
Whatever you’re hesitating on—the investment, the call, the decision—you already know the answer.
Fear isn’t a red flag. It’s a green light.
Make the commitment first. The clarity, relief, and momentum follow.
Because you only get what you’re 100% committed to.