Once there lived a rich man who was justly proud of his cellar and the wine therein. And there was one jug of ancient vintage kept for some occasion known only to himself.
The governor of the state visited him, and he bethought him and said, "That jug shall not be opened for a mere governor."
And a bishop of the diocese visited him, but he said to himself, "Nay, I will not open that jug. He would not know its value, nor would its aroma reach his nostrils."
The prince of the realm came and supped with him. But he thought, "It is too royal a wine for a mere princeling."
And even on the day when his own nephew was married, he said to himself, "No, not to these guests shall that jug be brought forth."
And the years passed by, and he died, an old man, and he was buried like unto every seed and acorn.
And upon the day that he was buried the ancient jug was brought out together with other jugs of wine, and it was shared by the peasants of the neighborhood. And none knew its great age.
To them, all that is poured into a cup is only wine.
-The Old, Old, Wine by Kahlil Gibran, from the compilation 'The Wanderer'.

How often have we walked away from opportunities, fearing that we are not prepared to give it our best?
How often have we given up on situations, thinking them to be hopeless, only to have picked up the thread much later, often due to external compulsions,  at a much later stage, and realized that it had never really been a lost cause? That if only we had not given up hope in the first place, there was so much more that we could have done, the hastily-put-together effort in the end bearing witness to that fact?
How often has the fear of failure crushed our hopes and nullified our ambitions, before they even took shape?
How often have we been guilty of holding back the best in ourselves, thinking like the man with the old, old wine?
How many times have we had thoughts and ideas that would have been wonderful had we shared them, but which never got to see the light of the day because we felt that they were not good enough to be shared?
What is that invisible standard that we try to live up to? What is it that holds us back from being ourselves?
How many of us fall prey to that 'Hundred Percent' myth,  telling ourselves that if we can't put in the full hundred percent, we ought not to put in anything at all?
The people who have really contributed immensely to any cause would never done so with the full knowledge that they were giving their hundred percent.  In fact, had they worried about how successful they would eventually be with their contribution, they might not have contributed anything at all. 

In the movie 'Schindler's list', when the Jews who survived Hitler's state-sponsored terrorism gather together to present Oskar Schindler with a gold ring (made out of the gold from their tooth fillings),  Schindler is shown breaking into tears.
He bawls like a baby, asking himself aloud how many more lives he could have safeguarded, if only he'd given up luxuries like his golden badge and his car. The point is,  he got these doubts after he'd already been recognized as a hero for his yeoman efforts. Schindler never started out thinking that he'd save thousands of human beings from certain death. He'd probably have been unnerved, had he started that way. 
If we want to do anything, anything at all, whether it's painting a picture, or preparing for an exam, singing in public or doing our bit for the society,  it's better to stop thinking about how successful we'll eventually be.  Eventual success or failure will come along eventually.  Let's just go ahead and do what we can, today.  Wait, isn't that the gist of the advice that was supposedly imparted to a depressed Arjuna, by Lord Krishna, in the Bhagavad-gita? Do your duty without any expectations as regards the results? hmmm.
Religion and religious texts aside, it certainly pays to go back to the roots, to look well within ourselves. That's what I feel.