You’ve spent your lifetime bumping into the limits of what you deem possible.
And you’ve also spent your lifetime overcoming the seemingly impossible.
Sit. Crawl. Walk. Speak. Read. Find love. Get over loss and heartbreak. Travel. Invent. Create. Learn. Write.
Overcoming the seemingly impossible is what makes you you.
Once you accept that, the question shifts from, “What’s possible for me?” to, “What are you overcoming next?”
“What am I meant to do?” I often wonder.
You may have the same question on your mind.
Or maybe you don’t think about it at all, my friend. And perhaps that’s the better choice.
The search for purpose may not be about finding that one grand mission.
Maybe it’s about creating tiny ripples of influence right where we are with what we have.
Maybe the right question is, “What am I meant to do today?”
That way, we make each day matter in ways big and small.
Because these are the days we live anyway.
When you lean in to the fear
The naysaying voices you hear
You’ll realize solutions are near
Within grasp
Maybe already here
And so is everything else you hold dear.
The meaning of your life is not in the goals you crave.
It’s not in the results you chase.
Nor is it in the habits you create.
The meaning is in what you do in this very moment.
And the next moment.
And the one after that.
The meaning is in your collection of actions. In your collection of decisions. In your collection of present moments. Wherever they take you.
All behavior is inspired by avoiding pain or gaining pleasure – and since you usually act on what your brain perceives as the most intense of the two.
So if you think you desire something, but then “sabotage” yourself so you never get what you desire, that means you have mixed feelings about desire (and thus inner conflict): deep down, you feel that desire will give you more pain than pleasure.
In other words, it’s not self-sabotage: it’s your brain protecting you from pain it perceives as stronger than the pleasure you might get from reaching your goal.
Maybe you desire more money, but deep down, you feel money will corrupt you, or make you lose friends, make you feel guilty, or make you lose your drive.
Maybe you have a desire to write or create, but you feel the pain of judgment or rejection is stronger than the pleasure of creating.
Maybe you want to get in shape, but deep down, you feel you’ll give up anyway before reaching any meaningful results, so you’d rather save yourself the pain of future disappointment (a classic self-trust problem).
Maybe you notice a certain destructive pattern in your relationships, but you believe going to therapy and “opening up that can of worms” will be even worse than perpetuating the current situation.
If you keep sabotaging yourself, it might be worth to ask yourself the question: what pain am I avoiding? What am I afraid of? In my imagination, what’s going to happen when I reach my goal; both positive AND negative?
Or even better than just asking: journal about it.
Giving up on your intentions once doesn’t mean you’ll always give up.
Quitting a workout routine or diet once doesn’t mean you’re doomed forever.
Giving one clumsy speech doesn’t mean you’re a bad public speaker forever.
Learning from the past is good. But predicting the future based on a small set of isolated past experiences is overcalibration.
A neurotransmitter that once helped us evolve and motivated us to go out and explore the world now has us glued to screens and plates filled with sugary food.
Dopamine tells us not just to eat, but to eat more.
Not just to read a useful article, but click more headlines.
Swipe through more videos and photos.
Watch more episodes on Netflix.
Yet, when I interrupt the dopamine reward loop and resist the need for more, I’m pulled back into the now, and strangely enough, I actually see more. Hear more. Feel more.
Sometimes, to get more, you need to moderate.
