There are two good spots to sit at a coffee shop during the spring. The first one is outside in the shade. The second is inside near the window, far from the speakers, and away from the front door. On this day, I was sitting outside on a picnic bench at a coffee shop just north of Austin, Texas. They serve coffee, beer, tacos, and pastries, and have seemed to figure out that’s what most people want.

The Texas sun made its way over our heads but wasn’t in the mood to shine as bright as it did the day before. There is nothing like a 60 degree day in Texas. Everyone is wearing a jacket and no one is calling each other a wimp. In the North, if you wear a jacket when it’s 40 degrees outside you are weak, but not in Texas.

I watched person after person quickly walk inside, escaping the frigid Texas cold to get their coffee.

“Aren’t you cold sittin’ out here?” an older man asked me.
“Yes, sir! But I needed something different today.”
“Ah, well, I can understand that, son.” 

No one ordered iced coffee. Everyone left the shop clutching their to-go cups as if it had the secret to life inside. Maybe it did. My cup didn’t. 

I pulled out my computer to write. It wobbled on the uneven table top, but this didn’t bother me. I stared at a blank document for several minutes. I’d type a few words before deleting them. Nothing sounded right. Every word felt forced and each sentence felt clunky. As I sat there the fear began to set in.

Some days I wonder how much longer I’ll be able to be a full-time writer. The money isn’t very good and the words often hide themselves in my worries. I get lost in overthinking when the words don’t arrive. I kick myself for not choosing a different career and blame God for not making me 10 inches taller so I could play in the NBA. I find ways to tell myself I am dumb and wrong for choosing this as a career. I begin to compare myself to other writers as my mind spirals out of control. I get carried away inside my head as I think about how I am behind in life and this is just something else I’ll fail at.

The truth is, I am scared of failing.

But, just as I was about to close my computer, a mom and her two small children walked out of the coffee shop. The kids were holding hands and the small boy said to an even smaller girl, “It’s okay to be a little scared.” 

And I wondered if he would come say that to me.

About the Author

Tanner Olson is an author, poet, speaker, and podcaster living in Nashville, Tennessee.

He is the author of I’m All Over the Place, As You Go, Walk A Little Slower, and Continue: Poems and Prayers of Hope.

You can find Tanner Olson’s books on Amazon.

His podcast is The Walk A Little Slower Podcast with Tanner Olson and can be found wherever you listen to podcasts.

Tanner Olson travels around the country sharing poetry, telling stories, and delivering messages of hope.

You can follow Tanner Olson on Instagram (@writtentospeak) and Facebook where you’ll daily find encouraging words of faith and hope.