#488 You’re not the one running the show
Even if you know where you want to go.
Often, you’ll still have to bend to the world.
You’re not the one running the show.
Even if you know where you want to go.
Often, you’ll still have to bend to the world.
You’re not the one running the show.
Does “true purpose” even exist?
And if it does, how do we recognize it?
Persistence despite Resistance may be a helpful indicator.
Are you chasing your dreams because of what society wants you to do?
Or are you chasing them in spite of what society wants you to do?
Because even when social conditioning has molded your mind
if the same desire or vision enters your head, time and again
no matter how many others resist it
no matter how much you resist it
no matter how few people understand
it might be time to embrace who you were always meant to be
and do what you were always meant to do.
The moment you stop doing things for what they can give you, and start doing things for who you become through doing them, is the moment you get everything you ever wanted.
Lukas Van Vyve
I don’t write a blog post every day just to have a pile of posts on the blog.
I write because writing is what makes me a writer. And I enjoy being a writer very much.
The blog posts are but a byproduct. Pleasant. But a byproduct.
I don’t practice Stream Of Consciousness journaling every day to write beautiful prose, poems or have amazing insights.
I do it because it calms the mind. Because my life is better with it than without.
And because doing something for 700 days straight shows me that I, too, am becoming a disciplined person. And I enjoy being a disciplined person very much.
The occasional insights are but a byproduct. Pleasant. But a byproduct.
I don’t practice the guitar so I can show the world how well I play.
I play because it’s fun to practice something hard and feel a sense of improvement.
And because practicing the guitar makes me a musician. And I enjoy being a musician very much.
Being able to play a beautiful piece is just a by-product. Pleasant. But a byproduct.
There are by-products. And then there’s what matters.
You don’t need to learn how to write, run, or learn a language yet if you haven’t learned to write daily, run daily, or learn a language daily.
No how-to program, but take-action-today program.
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.
It rains – you keep breathing.
The sun is out – you keep breathing.
You win – you keep breathing.
You lose – you keep breathing.
You feel good – you keep breathing.
You feel bad – you keep breathing.
Whatever happens, you can keep breathing. And you can continue with what’s important to you.
Not all tasks and activities we must do feel fulfilling or rewarding. There’s no way out of busy work.
But we can avoid prioritizing and attracting it to the expense of work that matters.
Enter the hour of misery.
One hour of busy work and chores a day.
60 minutes. Not more. But also not less.
If, after 60 minutes of misery, you feel like you should do much more, it’s time to realign priorities.
Delegate.
OR come to terms with the fact that you’ll never finish the pile of busy work tasks – then carry on with the important stuff anyway.
After all, tomorrow’s another day.