We're all afraid of the dark...

As kids, we're all afraid of the dark. Not the darkness itself, but what might be lurking in it. The same fear follows us into adulthood, just wearing different masks.
That pitch-black forest you're afraid to walk through? It's filled with new experiences waiting to be discovered. The eyes glowing back at you from the shadows could be a bear—or they could be a kitten. But here's the thing: you'll never know unless you get close enough to shine your light on them.
Most people keep their flashlights pointed at the same safe, familiar ground. The same house. The same vacation spot. The same friends. The same routine. It's comfortable there. You can see everything clearly. No surprises, no risks, no bears.
And I get it. We live in a consumer-based culture that tells us comfort equals happiness. So we chase material things instead of experiences. As a kid, it's a Mickey Mouse watch. Then a nice Timex or Casio. Then a Rolex. Then a Rolex with diamonds. Then, if you're ultra-rich, it's about rarity—maybe the Rolex Liberace used to wear. It almost never ends, and all the while, it's a distraction from what actually has value: experiences and relationships.
I know this from living it. Some of my most amazing experiences came from the times I took the biggest chances—the times I stepped into the dark. Getting my real estate license. Moving to Salt Lake City to flip properties. Going to Mexico City after being cured from cancer. Each one terrified me. Each one transformed me.
Looking back now at childhood friends who stayed in the light, I can see how much they haven't experienced. And I can guarantee you this: anyone over 50 who faces their mortality will feel two things with crushing clarity. First: "I hated too much and loved too little." And second: "I didn't try enough. I didn't risk enough. I didn't take enough chances."
Time slips by quietly while we stay in our comfort zones. We don't push ourselves to learn that new language, travel to that exotic place, form new relationships, live in a foreign country. We tell ourselves "someday" while our flashlight keeps pointing at the same safe spot.
But here's what I've learned: the bigger the risk, the bigger the triumph. And the bigger the triumph, the more alive you feel. Most of those scary things lurking in the dark? They turn out to be kittens. Beautiful, life-changing kittens. But you have to walk toward them to find out.
Making new friends, living in new places, trying new things—they all exist in the darkness until you move toward them. Until you shine your light directly on them. And until you do, they remain too scary for most people to approach.
Until it's too late.
So shine your light into the dark. Take the chance. Risk the bear. Because when you look back at the end, you won't regret the bears you encountered—you'll regret all the kittens you were too afraid to meet.