#535 No one knows what they’re doing
No one really knows what they’re doing, no matter how loud they shout.
So don’t have to know what you’re doing yet before you start out.
Isn’t that a reassuring thought?
No one really knows what they’re doing, no matter how loud they shout.
So don’t have to know what you’re doing yet before you start out.
Isn’t that a reassuring thought?
You kind of want to run a marathon.
You kind of want to eat better.
You kind of want to move more.
You kind of want to feel better.
And everything kind of stays the same.
Only when “kind of” becomes “absolutely” and “want to” becomes “choose to” change happens.
I absolutely choose to write.
I absolutely choose to run a marathon.
I absolutely choose to eat better.
I absolutely choose to move more.
I absolutely choose to do whatever it takes to feel better.
Because there is no other way.
Most of your daily actions are guided by unconscious patterns and habits. But since actions overrule thoughts, even unconscious actions contribute to how you see yourself.
The more conscious actions you take, the more of a say you get in who you are (or want to be).
I choose to do ………… because I choose to be someone who …………
I choose not to do ………… because I choose to perpetuate my identity of ………….
Watching a sitcom or soap opera episode takes 20 minutes – and somehow, we always seem to find time for it.
Doing some stretches or a quick workout can take as little as 15 minutes – yet somehow, it’s very hard to find time for it.
Many good habits take take less time than watching a sitcom – and during and after, they’re often quite enjoyable. But our mind makes it so hard to start.
Whenever something that’s good for you feels insurmountable and your mind starts playing tricks on you, put it into perspective.
Doing this thing will take less time than watching a sitcom.
Maybe I could even do it while watching the sitcom.
And doing it will be a vote for the person I want to become.
Some days I have ten ideas to write about. Some days, zero.
But when I lack ideas to write about, the ideas aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from accessing the insights.
When I feel lonely, friends and family I can connect with aren’t really gone. I’m in a scarcity state: my brain chemistry prevents me from connecting with them.
Scarcity is like pollution.
When noise pollution of cars, planes and construction machines drown out the singing of the birds, the birds aren’t really gone. I just can’t hear them.
When light pollution drowns out the stars, they’re not really gone. I just can’t see them.
So how do I get out of scarcity? How do I reduce pollution?
Here’s what works for me:
Notice I’m in scarcity mode. Then move. Meditate. Do stream-of-consciousness journaling.
Then find a place where I hear the birds.
Find a place where I can see the stars.
Write anyway.
And connect with friends and family anyway.
Everything is impossible until suddenly it’s possible.
And then you’ll find the next thing that’s impossible.
The cycle of piercing through the veil is impossibility is eternal.
Frustrating when you forget.
Comforting when you remember.
My actions affect my identity and beliefs.
And my identity and beliefs affect which actions I take.
So, to change, I must consciously take actions that divert from my established identity and beliefs, and do what you believe is impossible for yourself.
Until it’s not impossible anymore.
It’s not an easy road, my friend. It takes courage. Effort. Sometimes pain.
Many times, it’s not worth it.
But sometimes, there’s no other way.
And in those moments, it’s good to know there’s always someone willing to show you a path, paved by Tiny Trust Builders, taking you wherever you want to go.
Since you’re reading my letters, that someone could be me, my friend.
Or anyone else you know.
I guess all I want to say is: you’re not in this alone.