I do a lot of DIY projects around the house. For instance, I completely rehabilitated the garage (got to learn about joint compound!).

And I rebuilt our front porch railing from scratch (got to buy a nail gun!).

Other projects have included painting several rooms, rehabbing the shed, making major improvements to our yard, fixing and patching all kinds of random things, unclogging gutters—and the other day, I even fixed the toilet.

Whenever I take on a new project, my partner shakes his head and says, “I just can’t believe how willing you are to do things.” To which I usually reply, “If you don’t do things, how will they get done?”

He usually follows that up with something about hiring a guy, to which I reply, “Why pay a guy when I can learn this? Bro, I’m an AmeriCAN. Not an AmeriCAN’T.”

Then we laugh, he gives me a forehead kiss, I go research what I need to do (aka: call my dad, Jack, for instructions), and off I go.

These projects usually come with a lot of learning—and can be incredibly challenging. The railing was particularly difficult. It involved a lot of math, learning about different materials, and actually building something in the material world, rather than just tweaking or improving something that already existed.

I made SO many mistakes.

I bought the wrong wood.

I bought the wrong screws (three times).

I didn’t put enough coats of paint on it.

I mismeasured, installed, uninstalled, reinstalled, uninstalled, and reinstalled again.

At one point, when I was complaining about the project, my partner said, “Of course it’s hard. You’ve never done this before. And you’re trying to learn how to do construction on the job as you go—when most people who build porch railings have years of experience.”

“Yeah, but they had to learn how to do it the first time, too. This just seems totally figure-out-able to me. I come from a family of engineers and doers, dammit,” I replied.

Another forehead kiss, and off I went.

In a moment of deep, deep frustration, I texted my dad through tears: “I think maybe I actually can’t do this. This might be outside my scope.”

He was a bit mystified. “What are you talking about? Of course you can do it.” He gave me a pep talk and some advice on how to get unstuck.

Off I went.

And hot damn—I fucking built that railing.

I’d been posting about the ups and downs of the journey on Instagram, and let me tell you…when I finally got that thing installed, there was an entire community celebrating with me.

Along the way, I learned innumerable lessons and picked up a whole slew of new skills. Beyond that, I built an entirely new kind of confidence in myself. Growing up, I watched the people in my family build, construct, and fix an endless number of things—solving endless puzzles and problems along the way. So why couldn’t I?

And I did.

And it was glorious.

And every time I look at that railing, I think, I fucking did that.

And I tap my partner on the arm. ‘Yes, Samantha?’

‘I built that railing.’ 🤩

Maybe I’m totally delusional, but I genuinely believe that just about everything is figure-out-able.

Maybe it’s really fucking hard.

Maybe it requires certain resources.

Maybe it takes a certain amount of time—or a particular timing.

Maybe you’ve gotta cry your way through it.

Maybe you’ve gotta practice on some test boards before you try to install it directly to your house.

But if you really believe in it—if you really want it—why can’t it be done?

And why can’t you—or I—be the ones doing the doing that gets it done?

I think about this a lot these days.

So much of what’s going on in the world seems like it’s out of our hands. And much of it is.

But when I hear people say, ‘There’s nothing we can do but wait’, a voice comes surging up from deep down in my gut and pouring out of me that says loud and clear:

No. Fuck that. Hard. Pass.

There is always something that can be done.

There is always something I can do.

My life is mine to build. Your life is yours to build. Not any politician or billionaire. Not any boss or company. Not any rule or law. Not anything called an “economy” or a “stock market” or a “credit score”.

Every day we are beholden to decisions made by people who don’t always know what to do—but always know something can be done.

And they fuck around and find out.

So why can’t we?

With our tools, our integrity, our grit, our determination.

With our willingness to learn new things, and be vulnerable, and put ourselves out there.

With our community of people cheering us on from the corners.

I know we’re all pretty traumatized right now. We’re all a little frozen, as we experience [sweeps arm in front of her in a grand gesture] All The Things All The Time All At Once.

So: Rest when you need to rest.

And: Do when it’s time to do.

And if you don’t know what to do or how to do it, work with someone who can help you figure it out.

One of the biggest lies is that we have to sort our shit out all by ourselves.

That’s not only unnecessary, it’s impossible.

Personally, I have an entire team of coaches, friends, family, colleagues and others who help me sort my shit out all the time. (I call Jack 37 times a day when I’m working on a house project.)

And you don’t have to wait.

You don’t have to wait until things settle down, or the government changes leadership (or implodes), or you survive another round of layoffs, or some miracle happens to you.

You can create your own little miracles.

You can build safety, and thoughtfulness, and community in your own little corner of the world.

So anyway. I built a porch railing.

But what I really built was belief.

Belief in myself.

Belief that although I don’t always know what to do, I’m right that something can always be done.

And I can—with my team (hi dad!)—figure it out.

I’m curious where this lands with you. Let’s chat.

Feel free to reply to this email. All replies come directly to me and are completely private.

Or book a call here (for a friendly chat) or here (if you want to talk more about tapping into what’s possible.)

(Just a reminder that I’m offering 50% off all coaching services through the end of April. You can read more about that here or here.)

So anyway. We got this.

Even when we don’t know what to do, something can always be done.