Sunday, January 16, 2005

here's a question

Why does it take fear or pain to motivate ourselves to change?

You'd think — you really would — that it would be out of love and... well... joy for lack of a better word.

But think of all the people who want to lose weight, but don't do what it takes. Think of all the people stuck in dead-end jobs that they know are sucking out their souls yet they are still punching the time clock. Or the people who continue to smoke, to drink, to do drugs. Or the people who find themselves glued to the front of the tube, night after night.

I mean, come on... you know, I know, we all know... this is not what makes a happy life.

Why? Why does it take pain to get us to change? Why does it take fear?

Why doesn't it take simply wanting something better for yourself?

This is a bit of a rant.

In the classic The Road Less Traveled by M. Scott Peck he talks about the ability to delay gratification — this appears on page four and I know that for a fact because that's as far as I got in that book the first few times I tried to read it. I got to "Delaying Gratification," promptly got sleepy and decided it was a good time to take a little nap. I'd get to that book later.

Peck says that one of the first steps in growing up, of living in love instead of in fear, is to delay gratification. Emdot: knock knock: are you there? Are you reading this?

I have big plans for 2005. And there is a kind of big part of me that is afraid that I am going to let myself down and I can't tell you how much I don't want that. I'm tired of that. I want more. I want nothing short of the satisfaction of knowing that I went for it. I worked hard. I stayed true to myself. And I did everything I could.

I don't mean that in a self-flogging sort of way. I don't mean that in a "I reject my current life" way. This isn't rejection -- this isn't self-help or project mentality -- this is not wanting to squander this precious time I have here on earth. Does that sound scary or mauldlin or melodramatic? It is simply my truth.

But I'm afraid.

On an online group I'm in, I read the following quote, and I want to share it with you, too:
Pema Chodron tells us that "what we discipline is not our 'badness' or our 'wrongness.' What we discipline is any form of potential escape from reality."

When we're not living in this disciplined awareness, our willing tactics of avoidance create an endless cycle of more suffering for ourselves. These avoidance tactics may temporarily placate our senses, but they create a deep form of unhappiness.

On some level we know we're not being true to ourselves or our potential. Discipline is having enough respect for yourself to make choices that truly nourish your well-being and provide opportunities for expansive growth. Far from being a kind of medicinal punishment, it allows us to direct our energy toward a fulfilled life of meaning and one that is exciting and pleasurable.
- Respect for yourself
- making choices that truly nourish your well-being
- providing opportunities for expansive growth

That's what I'm talking about. That's what I want. I want a kind of happy exhaustion at the end of day that says I tried hard. I did my best. And knowing that I deserve to have a little kick back time to feel good about all the hard work.

But first, I must work.

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