What am I scared of right now?
What are the chances that that scenario will come true?
What would happen if that scenario came true?
And what would happen then?
And then?
And then?
Is it really that bad?
Do I have the resources to deal with it?
Is this truly a catastrophe, or will I be fine either way?
Keep asking*, “What would happen then?”.* Look past the initial fears and challenges. And more often than not, you’ll realize that this too shall pass.
Passion is writing whenever you can.
Discipline is writing even when you can’t.
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.
We all live in a maze of mistranslations and misunderstandings about who we think you are and who others think we are.
Now, by lack of a way to know who we truly are, misunderstandings can be comforting, my friend; there’s no doubt about that.
But when you get so lost in the maze that it causes suffering, it might be time to start mending the misunderstandings.
Could it be that mending is nothing more than making another mistranslation about who we are that makes us happier?
After all, I can perceive myself as a struggling writer or a skilled wordsmith – both perspectives hold their truths.
It’s the power of our misunderstandings that molds our reality.
Intellectually understanding that the perfect speech includes a strong opening, humor, a dramatic demonstration, rhetorical elements, and emotional appeal doesn’t mean your next speech will contain those elements right away – and that’s okay.
You don’t have to master this today.
Intellectually understanding the nuances and body positioning of a yoga pose doesn’t mean the next time you stand in that pose, you’ll perform it perfectly right away – and that’s okay.
You don’t have to master this today.
Intellectually understanding verbs, tenses, or case systems in a foreign language doesn’t mean you’ll be able to use them correctly in conversations right away – and that’s okay.
You don’t have to master this today.
Turning intellectual understanding into internalized knowledge and skill is a slow, layered process:
Whenever someone commits to doing something and doesn’t follow through, I start distrusting them.
Whenever I commit to doing something and don’t follow through, I start distrusting myself.
The person who most often lets you down might well be you.
If you don’t accept this behavior from others, why would you accept it from yourself?
The path to higher self-esteem is paved with kept promises to yourself.
Stay with the fear
What do you hear?
Stay with the desire
What do you see in that burning fire?
Stay with whatever you feel
Stay with it
Until you heal
