Why we (should) change our minds in the 11th hour.

You’re about to ship your product, wrap the gift, get dressed for the event, name the baby. Go time. Launch time. Deadline-to-meet-time. It’s time to make the final call. You’ve been working toward this for months. Money invested in designers, endless jam sessions, deep thinking, working toward THAT goal.

And then… and then you look at it (clock is ticking, we’re waiting for you to sign off), and you think… it’s not quite right. We need to… change the name, pull apart the structure, swap out the picture, switch the offer, shift gears.

And then… you want to throw up.

Change? Now?! But you’ve been so certain, so clear, so specific with what you wanted. You ASKED them to make it that way. It was your idea. You made the choices. It’s time to put this project to bed!

The road to mediocrity is… easy.

Let’s say… 80% of people will proceed as planned — they’ll keep their mouth shut, save money, save face, don’t rock the boat.

20% will risk looking indecisive and somewhat unreasonable, and they’ll put on the brakes, push for change, throw a wrench into the works, and ask for Olympian efforts at the last minute.

The people in the latter camp? They tend to be outstanding. Their risks are more likely to pay off — because they take them.

Sometimes clarity isn’t as much of a “dawning” as it is a “squeezing through a portal of change.”

“Think of 11th hour a-ha’s as a distillation of truth — truth that’s good to act on.”

We get clear about what we really, truly, actually for real want at pull-the-trigger time by virtue of psyche mechanics — we’ve been grinding and polishing for so long that we’re more likely to see a new vein surface in the material; and because our spirit is determined to take its true shape in the world (not that we always let it).

I’m not a fan of delaying (although sometimes a sacred pause is the lever to greatness). I’m not suggesting that you let clarity derail deadlines and commitments (sometimes we label perfectionism as clarity to give ourselves the, “It’s not good enough yet,” excuse).

What I’m campaigning for is that you embrace the potential genius of the last minute knowings (because they’re natural).

Consider that your last minute revelation of how it could be better might be higher guidance, and do what it takes to make it so.

The one part of the plan that isn’t changing? The plan to always give your very best.

Love,

Danielle