#46 Feigned feelings

You don’t have to believe yet you can write, meditate, do yoga every day.

But nothing stops you from acting as if you already can.

After all, what would your day look like if you were already able to write every day?

That’s right. Not so different, apart from the fact that you would write. Today.

So if you decide to write today, even if it’s just one sentence, you’re acting in the exact same way as a person who already knows they can write every day.

And if you act the same way… you’re becoming that person**.**

That’s a lot of words to say… it’s not so hard to be a writer today.

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?

If I don’t write the post I intended to write, I actively avoid the desired result of my writing.

If I don’t do the workout I intended to do, I actively avoid the desired result of my workout (being in better shape, running a new PR,…)

If I don’t have the difficult conversation I intended to have, I actively avoid the desired result of that conversation.

Inaction is not the lack of action.

Inaction is taking active action to avoid working towards the result you desire.

The real question, then, is:

Why do I actively avoid working toward a desired result?

Am I worried that even if I write daily, I’ll never become a skilled writer?

Am I worried I won’t enjoy writing anymore if I ever get recognition?

Am I worried that writing every day will turn me into a skilled writer, but being a professional writer won’t be fulfilling?

P.S. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I only have a limited repertoire of examples in this newsletter, my friend

I trust you to apply the insight to your situation.

And maybe, when you’re pondering the question above, you’ll come to the same conclusion as me:

That more often than not, I’m more interested in the comfort of “wanting” something I don’t have than in “taking action to get something.”