With your permission, I’d like to introduce a mind inoculant into your head.
From now on, you are playing a nighttime game called Bedtime Soon.
If you ever think the words “bedtime soon” in your head, possibly in a wholesomely-joyous cartoony accent, you have to begin getting ready for bed, immediately. The trick is to never hear that darned cartoon duckling-rabbit-kitten saying “Bedtime soon!” This is a wonderful game because if you win, you don’t even notice you’re playing it. When you lose, you pay a small forfeit (get up and do the chores which prepare one for bed) but you actually win so very much.
Play it for a week and let me know how it goes.
Here is a game that you can play in the car:
Yell at every street sign, and justify that yelling.
“‘Cromwell St’? Cromwell? That traitor?? Hang him I say!”
“‘Flood St’? Is that supposed to be funny?? Do you know how many people *died* in Haiti???”
You are your vow. If you make a vow: “one hour upon waking, and one hour upon sleeping, I will paint”, and you keep that vow, you are a painter. That is what you are. “What are you?” “I’m a painter.” The art of being a thing is the art of toiling for it.
Every good mummer needs to know when to close his cart and move on.
You know why Martin Seligman’s “flow” is so pleasurable? The state of flow is rest for the monkey mind. The whole time you’re whitewater rafting, you’re not thinking.
Our philosopher Aristotle had it right. In joyous reason and incessant worry: man is a rational animal.
Start with something small.
Know exactly what you want.
Ponder its value, all which achieving it will unlock.
See every detail of it. Feel what it will be like to be there, to have won.
Now, relax. Release. Allow it to not happen.
Then, perhaps, your deep inner mastery will come forth and guide you, move you unto victory. Or perhaps it will not. Continue to accept failure with an open heart.
This is doing by not doing.
He that lies upon the ground cannot fall.