🤔 The one constant in my life—good or bad—is me.
I guess this is the “without forgetting who you are” part of the reinventing yourself thoughts I shared recently. Or maybe, more what I meant, there? I read that title again and it feels like I was concerned about forgetting my roots or something. I mean, yeah, but I’m really more concerned about making a conscious effort to factor all the stuff I’ve learned about myself in recent years into my new plans.
Big moves break small ties.
From that post:
I keep finding myself thinking, “I don’t do it like this.” What’s neat is how quickly “I don’t have to do it like this anymore” follows. I like noticing the little spots where my brain realizes we have a rare opportunity to radically change how we do things because there’s just no way we can go back to the way things were.
The longer we stay in one place, the harder it is to change. Think: petrified wood. It’s wood that’s spent so much time in the same spot that it’s mineralized and turned to stone. We can shape and build with both wood and stone, but one is easier than the other.
At the same time, stone is stronger and more resilient. Anyway, the point I’m working through is that I want to use this opportunity to implement a lot of the good ideas I’ve picked up over the years—but I can’t forget all the things I’ve learned about how I get in my own way.
Or maybe how and where I DON’T get in my own way?
The path of least resistance is always downhill. The longer we let things slide, the more momentum they gain—and the harder (and scarier) they become to stop. You know, it’s like weight loss. We all know it starts with eating less and doing more. And yet so many of us struggle with this day in and day out. It’s like our brains have figured out compound interest, but use it the wrong way.
Look, man. Even if we started doing everything 100% right—RIGHT NOW—it would take months to see results. One bacon cheeseburger with a fried egg and fries isn’t going to turn you into a blimp.
We can all see the absurdity in that kind of thinking, but that’s how it goes sometimes. It’s almost as if we’ve got the tools and machinery we need to become the people we want to be, but once we get things moving in one direction, our brains pull out every trick in the book to keep us on those tracks. It’s all habits.
Everywhere I go, there I am. Simultaneously getting in my own way and letting things slide. So here I am in a new town, with more flexibility than I’ve had since high school, and I’m starting to notice how what feels like preserving space and time for exciting new things is a slippery slope letting whatever is easiest fill that space.
Don’t put it down. Put it away.
[ Thanks, Josh. ]
One windy-ass night on a ridge somewhere in the Parashant National Monument, Josh and I were talking about how much time we spend looking for things we just had or saw earlier in the day. Josh shared this little nugget with me and it’s been a daily reminder ever since. For many of us with ADHD, out of sight means out of mind. Our brains are processing far too much information through the windshield to be bothered with things in the rearview mirror. When we put things away—ie: where they go—we can find them when we need them.
It seems the same thing applies to this relatively clean slate opportunity I’ve got before me now. While it might feel like I’m preserving space and time for things like walking the dogs, reading more books, writing more often, and so on, the longer I go without putting those things away so to speak, the easier it is for literally anything else to sneak in and take root.
More deep thoughts from Brian, I guess. But this is where I am these days. Everywhere I go.
(Damn, things are getting exciting, though. Wow.)