21/04/2026
I think one of the biggest misunderstandings people have about confidence is this:
They think confidence is what comes before the action.
As if one day you wake up, stretch a little, look at your to-do list, and suddenly feel completely certain about sending the email, making the call, posting the idea, starting the course, having the awkward conversation, or walking into the room and speaking first.
That would be lovely.
Very efficient.
Terrible for the rest of us.
Most of the time, confidence doesn’t come first.
Evidence comes first.
And the evidence usually arrives through very small movements.
That’s the bit people miss because small movements are not very glamorous.
They don’t look like transformation.
They don’t sound impressive in a podcast interview.
Nobody says, “My whole life changed because I finally replied to one message on a Tuesday morning while standing in the kitchen waiting for the kettle.”
And yet… sometimes that’s exactly how it happens.
A small movement creates evidence.
You send the message.
And the world does not collapse.
You post the imperfect thought.
And nobody arrives at your door to revoke your right to speak in public.
You ask the question.
You make the call.
You begin before you feel ready.
You say the thing a little clumsily.
You turn up slightly unsure of yourself.
And then your nervous system gets new information.
Oh.
We can do this.
Not perfectly.
Not beautifully.
Not with swelling music in the background.
But we can do it.
That matters more than most people realise.
Because when you’re stuck in what Dr. Seuss called The Waiting Place, you can begin to believe that the answer is more thinking.
A bit more preparation.
A bit more planning.
A bit more internal negotiation.
You tell yourself you need clarity.
Or confidence.
Or the right moment.
Or a sign.
But often what you actually need is evidence.
Not massive evidence.
Not life-changing evidence by lunchtime.
Just enough evidence to loosen the grip of the old story.
Just enough to challenge the part of you that says,
“No, no, no… we don’t do this sort of thing.”
A very small action can do that.
That’s why I’ve started to think that leaving the Waiting Place rarely happens through one giant leap.
Usually it happens through movements so small they barely look heroic at all.
Press send.
Book the date.
Walk in.
Speak first.
Stop rewriting.
Let it be seen.
Try once.
That’s the strange power of small movements.
They may look tiny from the outside, but internally they are gathering proof.
Proof that you can begin.
Proof that discomfort is survivable.
Proof that action teaches faster than overthinking.
Proof that who you have been is not the same as who you have to be next.
So maybe that’s the question this week:
What small movement would give you better evidence than another hour of thinking?
Because sometimes one small act will teach you more than a week of waiting ever could.
John “taking action” Cassidy-Rice
