#476 What do you stand to lose and gain?
How painful is it not to do what you secretly know is good for you? What do you stand to lose?
How amazing does it feel to do what you secretly know is good for you? What do you stand to gain?
How painful is it not to do what you secretly know is good for you? What do you stand to lose?
How amazing does it feel to do what you secretly know is good for you? What do you stand to gain?
I go to the gym, play volleyball, run, and land on yoga.
I speak, film, consult, and land on writing.
I sing, dance, drum, and land on playing the guitar.
When you’ve only ever seen one path for yourself all your life, it’s scarcity.
When you’ve opened your eyes, explored life, and consciously decided to take the path that aligns the most with who you want to be…
It’s destiny.
Explore.
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.”
There used to be a time when you didn’t have words for your feelings. You just felt them.
You didn’t have words to say that your parents are your parents. You just knew it.
You didn’t have words for the sounds other humans made. Like singing birds, a buzzing bumblebee, or a rolling thunder, it was all just vibrating air.
What was your experience of reality like before words started categorizing, abstracting and limiting what you could see, hear, touch and feel?
The other day, I talked about changing your focus to change how you feel about the events in your day.
But something strange happened when I first had that realization.
It didn’t feel like a relief.
Do I even want that responsibility? To choose how events affect me?
After all, that would take away my right to complain about how poorly life treats me.
I couldn’t ascribe any successes or achievements to “sheer luck” anymore.
And wouldn’t it be silly to say I don’t deserve happiness, luck, or anything good if I knew I could change my focus and be lucky this very moment?
What a burden.
I’m still deciding if I am strong enough to carry it.
But one thing’s for sure: the days I have the presence of mind to direct my focus are the days I feel best.
I wonder if it’d be like that for you, too.
Maybe you could try it out? Even if it’s to indulge me.
See how it feels.
And let me know how it goes. I’m curious about you.
Giving it your best doesn’t mean you’ll always create your best work.
But when you give it your best daily and you zoom out, you’ll notice how, slowly but surely, your best work becomes better and better.
And that’s all that matters.
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.