19/09/2026
20 seconds of courage.
Today, I gave my first public speaking talk.
In a small bell tent, at a beautiful back to nature festival, I stood up and spoke about nervous system capacity. (Thank you Stacey Charles for inviting me to speak)
And the irony wasn’t lost on me.
Because in the days leading up to it, every part of my nervous system was looking for a way out.
Every reason I could cancel ran through my mind.
I’m currently living with a lot of physical pain, so I had the perfect excuse.
A completely legitimate one, actually.
I could stay home.
Stay comfortable.
Stay hidden behind my screen, where I’ve spent so much time convincing myself that I’m still “visible”.
And then I remembered something a Christian friend said to me recently:
“Sometimes you only need 20 seconds of courage.”
Twenty seconds to say yes.
Twenty seconds to walk through the door.
Twenty seconds to stand up before your body has time to convince you to sit back down.
My work is about capacity — about understanding that our nervous system will so often choose what is familiar over what is expansive.
And suddenly, I was being asked to practise the very thing I teach.
So I went.
I had prepared my talk. I knew what I wanted to say.
But that morning, I felt God remind me:
You do not need to be perfect.
Just trust Me and allow yourself to be seen.
The right people will receive what is meant for them.
So that’s what I did.
I stopped trying to deliver the perfect talk and simply allowed Him to speak through me.
At one point, a mum came into the tent with her little boy, initially just seeking shelter from the rain.
But they stayed.
As I was speaking, her little boy wandered over and handed me the rubbish from his snack.
Then his doll.
And instead of seeing it as an interruption, I smiled, acknowledged him, accepted what he was giving me and carried on.
And strangely, that little moment felt like part of the message too.
This is capacity.
Not creating perfectly controlled conditions before we allow ourselves to show up.
Not waiting until the pain disappears, the fear quietens, the children behave, life settles down, or we finally feel “ready”.
But expanding our ability to remain present inside real life as it is happening.
I didn't clock-watch.
And when I finished, I noticed the familiar temptation to mentally replay everything…
What did I forget?
What should I have said differently?
Was I good enough?
But this time, I didn't follow it.
I exhaled.
And I carried on with my day.
No picking myself apart.
No post-performance autopsy.
No demanding perfection from the woman who had just done something brave.
Just gratitude that I had shown up.
Maybe courage isn't always the absence of fear.
Maybe sometimes it's simply giving yourself 20 seconds to move towards the thing you're being called into before familiarity talks you out of it.
And then trusting God with the rest.
20 seconds of courage.
And the rest is grace.
