 |
| Source |
For those of you who mark the occasion, today is the 4th day of Lent. For me, this means the 4th day without caffeine. Hands down, this is the most difficult Lenten sacrifice I've ever made. Preparing my morning coffee is a ritual that I took for granted. Ironically, having been without it for four days now, I realize that the ritual had become so second nature that I barely derived any pleasure out of it. I was preparing my coffee on autopilot, failing to slow down to really savor the experience. Despite the struggle of going another 36 days without caffeine, at least I've already gained some valuable perspective about my morning routine that will help me to relish it more once Lent is over.
 |
| Source |
Besides this realization about the monotony of my morning ritual, I'm struck with an interesting feeling as I think about my choice to give up caffeine for 40 days. It's a combination of panic, anxiety, excitement, and pride. As I sit here pondering it, I realize that I haven't felt this way in some time because I haven't challenged myself to anything for some time. This is a tough pill to swallow, but it's also humbling. In fact, the competitive side of me sees it as a provocation of sorts, a nudge to get the ball rolling in other parts of my life.
When we take on a physical or mental challenge, we must step out of our comfort zone. This is not easy to do, as it requires us to define a goal and the action steps that must be taken to achieve it. There are many things that keep us from identifying goals and the steps needed to achieve them, not least of which is fear--both of succeeding and of failing. We fear the external factors that will affect our ability to achieve our goals--others' opinions, temptations, etc.--as well as the stories our minds tell us about why our goals are stupid and not worth anything--why we're stupid and not worth anything. We think we simply aren't strong enough to overcome the obstacles that will inevitably be placed in our path, and we give up before we even try. I have been guilty of this on numerous occasions.
The belief that something is not worth doing if there's a chance we'll fail at it is failure itself: it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. We often convince ourselves that the stakes are so high that failure is irredeemable, so we don't venture out of our comfort zone for fear that we won't be able to handle the shame and disappointment of failure. In my case, I've definitely fallen back on this faulty logic. But I've also learned how to manage these feelings. For example, I'm not afraid of failing at my Lenten promise. That doesn't mean that I don't accept that I may slip up; it simply means that the stakes just aren't that high for me. For me, the belief that failing to try at keeping my Lenten promise is as bad as failing to keep it at all.
This idea of stakes got me thinking: would I be more willing to take chances in my life, in my career, in pursuit of my passions, if I didn't let my mind get crowded out by this arbitrary notion that "the stakes are just too damn high?" The answer is an unequivocal yes. And if the answer is yes, how do I do that? First, I think you have to ask yourself: how do I know the stakes are too high? The truth is that you don't know it; you can't know it. Also ask yourself: what are you measuring the stakes against? I think it's helpful to think about a time in your past when you achieved a goal that at one point seemed lofty, if not impossible. Think about the likelihood you faced of not achieving that goal, and how that would have altered a course of events. Then think about how you eventually did it: chances are that you established the goal, identified actionable steps to take to achieve it, and then worked your butt off. I'd be willing to bet that thinking back on it, the struggles of getting started are harder to conjure up in the mind than the joy of the process and the subsequent realization that yes, you did achieve this monstrous and wonderful thing. This is how I think about my journey of learning to speak fluent Spanish, as well as that of becoming a licensed personal trainer.
We have all succeeded at something in our lives; there's no doubt about that. This means that we are all capable of recalling a past success and using it as a metric against which to compare our current wishes, dreams, and hopes. At one time, that past success was nothing more than a dream--a goal to be achieved. The notion that it could be achieved and what it would take probably made you feel as anxious, if not moreso, than you feel faced with your current situation. And yet, you made it through--you persevered--and you are a better person for it. This realization is powerful, so harness it to push through the self-doubt and negativity that colonize your mind. Doing is achieving, so get to work! I believe in you!
Have a blessed weekend, everyone (anyone else looking forward to the Oscars red carpet as much and I am?!)!!!
The belief that something is not worth doing if there's a chance we'll fail at it is failure itself: it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. We often convince ourselves that the stakes are so high that failure is irredeemable, so we don't venture out of our comfort zone for fear that we won't be able to handle the shame and disappointment of failure. In my case, I've definitely fallen back on this faulty logic. But I've also learned how to manage these feelings. For example, I'm not afraid of failing at my Lenten promise. That doesn't mean that I don't accept that I may slip up; it simply means that the stakes just aren't that high for me. For me, the belief that failing to try at keeping my Lenten promise is as bad as failing to keep it at all.
This idea of stakes got me thinking: would I be more willing to take chances in my life, in my career, in pursuit of my passions, if I didn't let my mind get crowded out by this arbitrary notion that "the stakes are just too damn high?" The answer is an unequivocal yes. And if the answer is yes, how do I do that? First, I think you have to ask yourself: how do I know the stakes are too high? The truth is that you don't know it; you can't know it. Also ask yourself: what are you measuring the stakes against? I think it's helpful to think about a time in your past when you achieved a goal that at one point seemed lofty, if not impossible. Think about the likelihood you faced of not achieving that goal, and how that would have altered a course of events. Then think about how you eventually did it: chances are that you established the goal, identified actionable steps to take to achieve it, and then worked your butt off. I'd be willing to bet that thinking back on it, the struggles of getting started are harder to conjure up in the mind than the joy of the process and the subsequent realization that yes, you did achieve this monstrous and wonderful thing. This is how I think about my journey of learning to speak fluent Spanish, as well as that of becoming a licensed personal trainer.
 |
| Source |
We have all succeeded at something in our lives; there's no doubt about that. This means that we are all capable of recalling a past success and using it as a metric against which to compare our current wishes, dreams, and hopes. At one time, that past success was nothing more than a dream--a goal to be achieved. The notion that it could be achieved and what it would take probably made you feel as anxious, if not moreso, than you feel faced with your current situation. And yet, you made it through--you persevered--and you are a better person for it. This realization is powerful, so harness it to push through the self-doubt and negativity that colonize your mind. Doing is achieving, so get to work! I believe in you!
 |
| Source |
Have a blessed weekend, everyone (anyone else looking forward to the Oscars red carpet as much and I am?!)!!!
I still think your worst idea ever was when you tried to give up alcohol senior year.
ReplyDelete