I’m a serial entrepreneur. I’ve been self-employed for over half of my working life. I’ve started three businesses, and learned a lot along the way.

My first business died a quick death because of youth, inexperience, and rapid life changes (marriage, babies). The second became moderately successful (financially), but was undermined and ultimately destroyed by a number of factors, including a massive drop in my state’s economy, as well as plain bad luck and lack of planning for such.

The third was born of passion, however. I am fervently passionate about what I do, and I can truly and honestly say I love my job. I love my job.

The problem is: it doesn’t remotely pay the bills. Not even close.

I have reached that point that any entrepreneur in the audience will understand: Jump off the cliff.

I am standing on the cliff that overlooks the land of dreams. Jumping off of cliffs is scary. There’s no safety net, there’s no guarantee of a soft landing, it’s far, and it’s painful. I could, I should, turn around and walk back to safety.

But behind me is a life of unhappiness and misery. Behind me is a life that I cannot lead. I have accepted and resigned myself to the fact that I am not cut out for that life. I’ve tried; believe me, I’ve tried, to be a member of that world, to live that lifestyle, to play that game. I do not have it in me. One of the things age and wisdom brings is the gift of self-acceptance; I accept that I cannot be that person.

I’m at that point again. The bills are piling up, money is not coming in, and things are looking bleak.

I have found, however, that this is when the magic happens. If I had never gone through this before, I’d be terrified right now.

I’m not scared. I’m tired. I’m introspective. I’m a little sad. But I am not scared.

I’m jumping.