Aren’t you scared of failing? Aren’t you scared of climbing up this mountain only to fall off it? To plummet below and find yourself broken at the bottom, unable to even stand? Do you fear the rocks that bite into your hands, the missteps that cause you to stumble? As you climb the cliff face, do you wish you had rope? Some safety to catch you should you fall, save you from the jagged edges of words and opinions that could destroy your career before its begun? What if the next handhold isn’t the right one? What if the next one will let you down? You reach your hand up and curl your fingers around it, take a deep breath, and lift yourself up. But the rock gives way. And you barely catch yourself. Why would you keep climbing? Aren’t your arms tired, your lungs exhausted? Why are you looking for the next handhold? The rock that fell hits those below. What if they look up? What if those rocks below notice your struggle and ready their edges? You should just stay still. Stay there. Don’t move. Don’t breathe.