Leaping Into the Unknown: Facing Doubt and Finding Growth, Joe Versus the Volcano Style
Reflecting on the Second Week of My Leap: How Doubt, Uncertainty, and a Quirky 90s Movie Helped Me Keep Moving Forward.
I've been too …. afraid to live my life so I sold it to you for 300 freakin' dollars a week!
Taking a leap into the unknown always comes with doubts. You make the decision, you commit, and then, almost immediately, those nagging questions show up: Did I make the right choice? Did I act too fast? Will this actually work? This is Day 2 of Week 2 of going all-in on my writing, and let me tell you—the doubt has already arrived.
It reminds me of Joe Versus the Volcano—a movie that’s part comedy, part existential drama, where the protagonist jumps into a literal volcano after being told he has a “brain cloud” that’s going to kill him. But the journey to that leap—and what happens after—resonates deeply now that I’m standing at my own crossroads.
“My whole life, I’ve been a victim of my own fear.”
The Leap: What It Feels Like to Be in Free Fall
When I first made the decision to leave my day job and pursue writing, there was excitement, hope, and a sense of freedom. But that freedom quickly gave way to doubt—real, gut-wrenching doubt. As I mentioned earlier, doubt isn’t a stranger to anyone who’s made a leap like this. But I didn’t expect to feel it so soon, and definitely not this intensely. It’s like Joe finding out his “brain cloud” was a ruse—a jarring realization that maybe the decision wasn’t as straightforward as I thought.
Like Joe, who goes from living a dull, mundane life to being on an island about to jump into a volcano, the leap into uncertainty is uncomfortable. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I don’t have control over the outcome. And sometimes, I wonder if I’ve just thrown myself into the deep end without learning how to swim first. Where's my water-tight luggage?
“I know he can get the job, but can he do the job?”
The Questions We All Ask: Did I Make the Right Choice?
I think everyone who takes a big leap asks these questions: What if I fail? Did I temporarily lose my mind? What if this wasn’t the right time? Am I going to regret this later? I’ve been asking those questions almost daily since I started this journey. But the thing is, I’ve come to realize that there’s no perfect time, and there’s no perfect plan. Creatives, in particular, feel these questions deeply because of the nature of what we do. We’re creating something personal, something we care about, and then we’re putting it out into the world, hoping it touches the hearts and minds of others.
And I think this is something everyone experiences, but creatives have a unique burden. It’s not just about producing something—it’s about the internal conflict between the artist and the entrepreneur. The artist wants to create something meaningful and personal, while the entrepreneur is constantly thinking, Is this going to resonate? Is this going to sell? Will people care? There’s this constant tug-of-war between following your creative instinct and needing external validation to justify the leap you’ve taken.
That’s where external validation comes into play. We all want to know that our work matters to someone, that the time and energy we’ve poured into it isn’t just wasted effort. But relying too much on that validation can be dangerous. If you start basing your worth on likes, views, or applause, you lose sight of why you started in the first place. The tension between creating for yourself and seeking acknowledgment from others is a constant struggle.
Joe Versus the Volcano reminds me of this—Joe didn’t know what was going to happen when he jumped, but he did it anyway because what other choice did he have? He wasn’t living a life that was fulfilling him. In some ways, I think that’s where a lot of us get stuck—waiting for everything to line up perfectly before we make a move. The reality is, if we keep waiting for the right moment, it may never come.
Marshall: Listen, haven't you got anybody?
Joe: No. But there are certain times in your life when I guess you're not supposed to have anybody, you know? There are certain doors you have to go through alone.
Marshall: You're gonna be all right.
The Real-Time Doubt: Yesterday’s Post Fell Flat
To be honest, yesterday’s post about Stand By Me left me questioning everything. It felt generic, like it was trying to be too much all at once and ended up being nothing special. It’s hard when you work on something for so long, and then it doesn’t hit the way you hoped. That’s part of the doubt—wondering if you’re capable of producing something valuable, and if anyone even cares.
Am I writing what matters? Am I reaching the people I want to reach? Or am I just throwing words into the void, hoping something sticks? These are the questions that can keep you up at night. I try not to let it—sleep is important (says the insomniac of 30 years)—but sometimes it still happens.
“Almost the whole world is asleep. Everybody you know. Everybody you see. Everybody you talk to. Only a few people are awake.”
Balancing Confidence and Doubt
Even with all of this swirling in my head, there’s a part of me that’s confident I made the right decision. I still believe I’m on the right path for now. My big projects—my poetry collections, memoir, and novels—are still at the heart of what I want to achieve. I’m not naive enough to think it’ll all happen in six months, and I don’t want to burn myself out trying. But I had to start somewhere. I had to stop waiting for the “right” conditions and just go for it.
And let me be clear—I’m not recommending everyone take a risky, uncomfortable leap. I’m not saying this is the best decision for everyone. But for me, at this point in my life, it felt like the only way to move forward. I had to take control of the conditions and make them “right” for me.
In Joe Versus the Volcano, the leap isn’t really about the volcano. It’s about Joe embracing life, uncertainty, and the realization that sometimes you just have to do the thing, even when you don’t know what the outcome will be. That’s where I am now—trying to trust the process, even though I don’t have all the answers yet.
“Dear God, whose name I do not know—thank you for my life.”
Falling Forward: What Joe’s Journey Taught Me
Even though I’m grappling with doubt, I’m still moving forward—because what else is there to do? I’m reminded of the idea of “falling forward" or "failing forward." We can’t always know the outcome, and we might stumble along the way, but at least we’re moving. It’s like that quote from Alan Watts: “To have faith is to trust yourself to the water. When you swim you don’t grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown. Instead you relax, and float.” We won’t always have that amazing luggage to rely on.
I don’t have to cling to certainty. I can embrace the uncertainty and trust that this process, as messy as it feels right now, is part of the journey. Like Joe, I’m learning that sometimes the leap itself is the point. Whether it’s jumping into a volcano or jumping into a new chapter of life, the leap is where we grow.
“ [as they are about to jump in the volcano] Joe - nobody knows anything. We'll take this leap, and we'll see. We'll jump, and we'll see. That's life.”
Reflection & Invitation
So, if you’re standing at your own crossroads, unsure of whether you’ve made the right decision, or if you’re still waiting for everything to be perfect before you act, let me tell you—there’s never going to be a perfect time. The leap will always come with doubt. But if you wait too long, you might miss out on the life that’s waiting for you on the other side of that jump.
Are you in the middle of your own leap? What doubts are creeping in? Let’s talk about it—you will receive no judgment from me.
“You know what you're afraid of doing. Why don't you do it? See what happens?”
Diving Deeper into the Doubt and Identity with Mo Jo Jo
Let’s get real—this process has made me question my identity, much like Joe’s own realization that the life he was living wasn’t really his. Which of the three Meg Ryan characters am I? Or am I Joe, caught in the disillusionment of having a “brain cloud,” only to find out it was all a lie? This journey—this leap—has forced me to confront things I didn’t even know I needed to address.
I mentioned before that I’m standing at my own crossroads, and that crossroads isn’t just about my career. It’s about who I want to be, how I want to show up in the world, and what kind of life I’m trying to build. The question I keep coming back to is, “What now?” I’ve taken the leap, but what does it look like to live fully in the unknown?
Falling (or Failing) Forward
As a kid, I wasn’t just accident-prone—I was a bit of a walking disaster. But the funny thing is, I never said I "fell down while going up the stairs," even though I definitely tripped more than once, and only going “up”. I always said, "I fell up the stairs." And it’s true—somehow, I found a way to stumble forward. Maybe it wasn’t just an accident; maybe it says something about who I am. Even when I fell, I was still moving upward.
Now that I think about it, that’s been a pattern in my life. I’ve faced setbacks and had my share of doubts, but each stumble has taken me to a different place—a little higher, even if it didn’t feel like it at the time. It’s like my mind was always wired to find some sort of upward trajectory, even in the midst of a fall. Despite being a pessimist for much of my life, I’ve always had this quiet drive pushing me forward. It’s like I knew deep down that falling isn’t the same as failing—it’s just part of the climb.
Patricia: What is it now?
Joe: We're on a raft, no land in sight. I don't know.
Patricia: It'll always be something with you, won't it?
Joe: Yeah. [pause] I'll tell you one thing: wherever we go, whatever we do,
we're taking this luggage with us.
Patricia: Deal.