#405 You don’t have to change who you are
You don’t have to change or improve who you are.
But you could develop new parts of your character without dismissing the existing parts.
They’re not the same thing.
You don’t have to change or improve who you are.
But you could develop new parts of your character without dismissing the existing parts.
They’re not the same thing.
If you made a plan to write every day, write today.
Don’t think. Write.
Because the decision has already been made.
And now is not the time to negotiate.
We naturally move towards pleasure and away from pain – with one exception: painful comfort.
If you’re used to believing that you’re bad at languages, there’s painful comfort in struggling with languages.
If you’re used to negative self-talk, there’s painful comfort in negative self-talk.
If you’re used to working 12-hour days, there’s painful comfort in working 12-hour days.
If you’re used to constant conflict, there’s painful comfort in constant conflict.
If you’re used to neglect, there’s painful comfort in neglect.
Painful comfort is keeping you comfortable AND hurting you.
Years of conditioning have given it an irresistible pull – until you decide to take a leap of faith and start believing that you, too, can change.
Where are you perpetuating painful comfort in life?
The ankle and foot complex contains 26 bones, 33 joints and over 100 muscles, tendons and ligaments.
Considering both feet, that makes a total of 52 bones, making up about a quarter of all bones found in the mature adult body.
https://3d4medical.com/blog/facts-about-feet
There are more nerve endings per square centimetre in the foot than any other part of the body.
https://www.simardfootclinic.com/feet-facts
A wealth of sensory information – suppressed by the padding in our shoes, orthotics – until we don’t sense anything anymore.
It’s like wearing safety ear muffs all day.
What was walking on this earth like, before we learned not to listen?
Muffled feet.
I’ve met many aspiring writers who weren’t writing regularly.
But I’ve never met a successful writer who wasn’t writing regularly.
Or yogis.
Or musicians.
Or athletes.
The writer who never publishes.
The runner who avoids competition.
The entrepreneur who never launches a product.
What’s the one thing you’re avoiding very hard, but if you’d do it anyway, your life would get much easier?
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.