This is the question

Probably a million men were more qualified
When Harry Truman chose Dan Acheson to be the Secretary of State, Acheson said he was worried that he “was not qualified to meet the demands of the office,” McCullough writes. “This, responded Truman, was undoubtedly so, but then he could say the same for himself, or any man. The question was whether he would do the job?”
In casual conversation Truman would often say there were probably a million other men who would make a better president than him. “But that was not the point. He, Harry Truman, was the President.” He had to answer the call. “I have a job and I have to do it,” Harry would say. “And the rest of you have to help me.”
Fill up a bunch of pages with blah-blah-blah
One of the most damaging ideas to creativity is to think that if you can’t win, you shouldn’t play. “I wish that Harper Lee had kept writing,” Elizabeth Gilbert writes in Big Magic. “I wish that, right after Mockingbird and her Pulitzer Prize, she had turned out five cheap and easy books in a row—a light romance, a police procedural, a children’s story, a cookbook, some kind of pulpy action-adventure story, anything. You might think I’m kidding, but I’m not. Imagine what she might have created, even accidentally, with such an approach. At the very least, she could have tricked everyone into forgetting that she’d once been Harper Lee. She could have tricked herself into forgetting that she’d once been Harper Lee, which might have been artistically liberating.” Gilbert goes on to say she wishes somebody had given Ralph Ellison and Scott F. Fitzgerald the go-ahead to just write anything and put it out there. And “any other creator, famous or obscure, who ever vanished beneath the shadow of their own real or imagined reputation. I wish somebody had told them all to go fill up a bunch of pages with blah-blah-blah and just publish it, for heaven’s sake, and ignore the outcome.”
How sly of him to teach
Trying to get inside the character of Walter White in Breaking Bad, Bryan Cranston needed to understand Walter. Walter was brilliant. He could have done anything he wanted in life. He started the company Gray Matters Technology with a friend, only to give it up and become a teacher. But why? Was it because he was afraid of failing? “What if everyone you knew growing up said you were destined for greatness, you couldn’t miss, and then you missed?” Cranston mused. “That’s not just failure. It’s collapse. It’s catastrophe.” Maybe that terrified Walt.
“And then I thought: How sly of him to teach. Why? That profession is unassailable. He could get away with saying: ‘I didn’t want the corporate world. I wanted to give my passion to the next generation. I had a calling.’ Teaching is a calling for many people. But not Walt. He was hiding out. Had he become a truck driver, people would have criticized him. But a teacher? Untouchable.”
The question is not whether you’re the best, or even whether you’re good. The question is will you do the job? Will you do the work you were called to do?