I was in San Francisco recently and decided to take a quick walk to the CVS next to my hotel to get some Diet Pepsi. Just before the entrance, there was a homeless man and his elderly dog, with a small sign that simply said, “Please help.”

I felt that pull of compassion in my heart and, for a moment, his hopelessness. So, I bought him some trail mix, water, and a bag of Purina for his dog, and gave it to him as I left.

As I walked away toward my four-star hotel, I started to cry – for this man and all the millions more homeless and hurting people that I couldn’t help. And then I felt overwhelmed by the fact that I could spend every waking minute of every day helping people and would never make a dent in the world’s suffering. It’s like taking a bucket of water out of the ocean – you will never, ever make it look any different, much less empty it.

But this was just one perspective, one angle, one story of what happened – one limiting thought pattern that says “Don’t bother, it won’t do any good anyways.”

Life and our actions are not two-dimensional. There are an infinite number of possibilities that could have occurred from this interaction. Perhaps others saw the gesture and likewise helped this man or others like him on other street corners. Perhaps this man felt – even for a brief moment – a sense of faith in humanity. Perhaps his dog felt full for the first time in days.

Or perhaps none of these happened. I don’t know, and I will never know.

What I do know is that deciding not to help one person because it won’t change the world is a flawed assumption. The important thing is it made a difference to this man, and it made a difference to me.

In a previous post I talked about Fear as the Winter Warlock in a beloved Christmas special. To soften that feeling, I imagined the scene where Santa gives the scary sorcerer a toy, and he melts into a nice guy and ally. Cue the cute music. The End.

But as nice as that would be, it really isn’t. Fear, or any strong emotion, can be downright cunning and will not be dismissed so easily. It shapeshifts. Comes at you from a different angle. Tries a different tack. But that doesn’t mean we’re powerless. The same methods that worked with Winter still can work with another face of fear, which lately happens to be a nasty drill sergeant (think Lou Gossett Jr., in “An Officer and a Gentleman”).

Imagine this conversation:

Me: I’m thinking about writing a book.

Drill Sergeant: STAND DOWN. YOU CAN’T DO THIS. YOU’VE NEVER DONE THIS. AND EVEN IF YOU DO, YOU’LL FAIL.

(All caps intended – he likes to YELL.)

Me: Well, you’ve got some good points. I have never done this. But there are resources out there.

Drill Sergeant: YOU MUST LISTEN TO ME! I OWN YOU! I ORDER YOU TO STAND DOWN! DROP AND GIVE ME 20 AND THEN GET BACK TO YOUR LIFE.

Me: Thank you, voice, for always speaking up and trying to ensure my safety and security. I appreciate your input. But my growth requires that I take a step, just one small step, toward doing something that fulfills me.

Drill Sergeant (louder and more strident): YOU CAN’T DO THIS!

Me (trying to soften the situation and imagining Lou Gossett in a Halston gown): That’s a nice pink dress you’re wearing……Sir.

I’m learning that when it comes to fear, insight isn’t inoculation. It helps, yes, but unless we take the actions that lead to behavior change, the power of insight and knowledge is limited. And putting on your red shoes and running is pointless. Fear will just give chase.

I’m learning that the key is to take a small step, almost like tiptoeing around a sleeping guard dog. Any project we undertake, whether at work or on a part of ourselves, always begins with just one step. And it can be a very small step. Open a new PowerPoint file. Make one phone call. Set up a meeting with a client. Google publishers that take new authors. Drink one glass of water a day.

And I’m learning to stay in the present moment. As someone who spends so much time in the future I ought to pay property taxes there, I know it’s tough. I’m not very good at it. But I keep trying, and trust that the right next step will be revealed when it’s time.