#351 Slow and steady
Progress is a silent play, but it’s the whispers of daily practice that leads to the roars of fulfilment.
Even your “bad days” are stepping stones to a brighter “good day”.
Slow and steady.
Progress is a silent play, but it’s the whispers of daily practice that leads to the roars of fulfilment.
Even your “bad days” are stepping stones to a brighter “good day”.
Slow and steady.
It’s fine to give up on something you started.
It’s a pity to not even start because you’re scared you’ll give up.
Don’t let the fear of giving up stop you from getting started.
And don’t let the fear of failing stop you from getting started either.
First, you practice doing the process every day – because if you don’t do the process consistently, you’ll never move towards an outcome in the first place. Tiny Trust Builders always come first.
Then, you practice becoming good at the process – because the better you are at the process, the more likely you’ll reach an outcome.
But, unfortunately, even if you become excellent at the process, you still won’t be able to predict an exact outcome.
Outcomes are fickle.
Even progress is fickle.
But the process is predictable.
And who knows, maybe the process IS the outcome.
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.
The more frequent and the less intrusive the habit, the easier it is to stick to.
Commit to writing for an hour once week? You’ll find a million reasons to procrastinate until the very last moment, on Sunday night, to write.
Commit to writing for 5 minutes once a day? The timeline is so short, there are no more excuses.
Make it doable. Make it frequent. And suddenly every habit is within reach.
Today could be the day you become who you’ve always wanted to be.
All it takes is one small change.
I used to do this.
But from now on, I do that.
Thought of the day: it’s better to be proven wrong than to be paralyzed in doubt.