You’re supposed to be the hero of your life. But how often do you play the villain instead?
I’ve done it more than I’d care to admit, and needless to say, it totally messes up how I want the story to go.
Here’s the spoiler: If I tackle a challenge or things don’t go the way I want, instead of grabbing my hero cape or wand or stylish-yet-comfortable black boots, I hold the door wide open to fear and self-doubt.
This twofer villain waltzes right in and gets to work, attacking confidence and faith and whatever else gets in the way. This happens any time I open a blank page, face a difficult decision at work, or fail…at anything. I’ve often fantasized about winning on the first try. Sometimes, I imagine discovering a hidden talent and impressing everyone around me. To date these remain delightful fantasies.
Then comes the critical point in the story: fight or flight? It’s decision time, the fork in the road. At times I don’t know what to do, so I do nothing. I act as if that will somehow let me off the hook, but inside, I know better.
I lose the times I give in, too scared in my own head. I hold on tight to what I know, good or bad.
But if I decide to fight, I’m fighting that villain. To fight means to move forward anyway. The villain is not a hater, not my mom who doesn’t approve, nor my friends who don’t understand, although it would be easy to make it about any of them.
It’s me. The go-getter and the saboteur, both in one place, awaiting my signal.
Who will win today?
How will today’s story end?
I don’t know yet. But each day is another chance to get better.
It’s a chance to do something other than lay down and admit defeat.
Tomorrow, I get to wake up and try all over again.
And if I’m lucky, again and again and again.
So often we focus on Big Steps & Grand Achievements. But just as clothing is held together, not by a few knots in thick rope, but thousands of tiny thread stitches, life’s journey is made up of thousands of baby steps, not a fistful of giant leaps.
The twin sisters of persistence and consistency are a double roundhouse kick to fear and doubt.
The tiny threads don’t often feel or look like they would ever turn into knots. We could all stand to incorporate those twin techniques in times of despair and rise up stronger. Thank you for sharing!