I can’t do this yoga pose – yet.
I can’t speak Spanish – yet.
I can’t keep my attention stable during meditation – yet.
I can’t do this – yet.
(Inspired by The Practice by Seth Godin. Highly recommended.)
The dice has been cast.
The decision has been made.
Now is not the time to negotiate.
How likely is the scenario you’re worrying about?
And how impactful or life-threatening is that scenario?
Now, how much mental bandwidth is worrying about it taking up?
Are your worries proportionate to the actual danger?
Should you be worrying at all?
If not, could you stop right away?
Of course, you and I both know that’s not always how it works, my friend.
Because even if we know rationally that we shouldn’t worry, the worrier mind tends to scoff at answering rational questions.
Yet today, I had an insight: maybe those questions aren’t meant to dismiss the worrier mind at all but empower the sane mind, temporarily suppressed and overpowered?
Maybe they can provide enough encouragement to make the sane mind stand up for itself again and say, “Enough is enough.”
Maybe that way, the sane mind will put the worrier mind back in its place, reminding it of the only task where it truly shines: protect us from life-threatening risks.
Or maybe not. I don’t know, my friend. You’ve seen me: I’m just another human with good days and bad—productive days and lazy. Days of irrational fears and worry, and days of relaxing, dreaming, and visioning.
But this I do know: worrying too much has never improved my mood, and I doubt it has ever improved yours.
So if you’ve had an overactive worrier mind lately, trying won’t hurt.
Let me know how it goes.
It’s fine to go slow and steady until you’re ready to go faster.
And even when you’re ready to go faster, it’s still fine to go slow and steady.
Slow and steady, so you have the space to listen to the sounds.
Slow and steady, so you have time to look around.
Slow and steady, so you don’t burn out.
Slow and steady, so you enjoy the journey.
Slow and steady.
Always moving.
Always in flow.
Always ready.
When you go slow and steady.
Performance gap: the frustrating gap between the way you know something should be done in an ideal world and the way you currently do it.
I know I should write daily blog posts in advance so I have a buffer in case something comes up and I don’t get to write. Yet here I am, writing this daily insight hours before the publication date.
I know what the perfect downward-facing dog pose in yoga looks like. Yet when I perform it myself, I am far off from that ideal pose.
I know all the ingredients that make up a solid, convincing speech. Yet when I write one myself, I am only able to incorporate a few of those ingredients.
Learning, then, is closing the gap between your intellectual understanding of an ideal product, action, or skill, and your current rendition of it.
Don’t be so hard on yourself for your current performance.
You can’t expect to turn intellectual understanding into mastery and internalized knowledge right away.
You don’t have to master this today.
If you know the journey of writing a book is filled with days where you won’t feel like writing, days where you won’t feel like writing aren’t a distraction – they’re a sign you’re on the right path.
After all, if you know setbacks are what makes your journey your journey, how could your journey be disturbed by setbacks?
At any given time in your day, if you’re doing what you set out to do, whether it’s work, play, going for a walk, or taking a nap, you’re gaining traction. In other words, you’re taking action and are moving towards a goal you set… and you’re becoming more of the person you want to be.
If you’re not doing what you set out to do, you’re getting distracted. You’re taking action and are moving away from the goal you set… and you’re becoming less of the person you want to be.
Traction, distraction… it’s all action. The only difference: are your actions deliberate, and have you intentionally chosen who you want to be (and which actions align with that identity)?
I can consciously set out, in advance to write for two hours a day, because I want to be a writer. Then, if I end up actually writing during those two hours, I’m gaining traction towards that goal and the person I want to be: a writer.
I can also consciously set out, in advance, to watch a Netflix series afterward as a reward for my hard labor, because I want to be someone who also allows downtime and relaxation in my day.
And if during that time I set out to watch that series, I actually watch the series, guess what: I’m gaining traction towards that goal and identity too! (BUT following this logic, if during the time I set aside for Netflix, I decide to keep writing, strangely enough, the writing has now become the distraction. This is how you become a workaholic.)
If I set out to meet with friends, or have a romantic date night because I want to be someone who values friendships and relationships, and I follow through… yep, now I’m gaining traction in that domain too.
The same goes for anything else I consciously decide to do on any given day.
Choose for traction and let your actions be a vote for who you want to be.
