I am meant to do big things. I embrace that.

Big things get imagined as scale: stadiums, headlines, numbers with commas. A teacher with twenty-eight children in a room is doing something whose size takes thirty years to become visible.

Embracing it is the part requiring nerve. Believing you're capable of something large makes you responsible for whether you attempt it.

The work is identical either way. The boring middle, the parts nobody photographs, the third draft nobody asked for. Big starts out as a normal Wednesday that didn't get wasted, and then a few hundred more of them behind it.