#82 Choice Inflection and New Defaults

The outcome is not the book.
The outcome is not the marathon.
The outcome is not the successful business.

The outcome is not even the daily habit you form, even though they’re the stepping stones you need.

The outcome is the embodiment of the changes we’ve internalized, the growth we’ve experienced, and the evolution we’ve undergone, allowing us to say, “This is what I now stand for. This is what I believe is possible.”

The outcome is the identity.

Maybe it’s less about “What do I want to achieve?” and more about “What do I want to believe?”

Goals make you write every day and enjoy the process, even if you’ll never publish a book.

Goals make you practice yoga and get to know your body, even if you’ll never be able to be in that ultimate pose.

Goals makes you help someone and learn to give and contribute, even if your help ultimately doesn’t get them to the place they wanted to go.

Goals don’t predict outcomes. Because the purpose of a goal is not to achieve it, but to set the direction of your life.

It gives you the fuel to start taking action, and the guidance to make sure that action is intentional.

I don’t know about you, my friend, but to me, that’s a fulfilling thought.

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.