You know how you think you should do something, and you don’t do it?
And you still think you should, and you still don’t do it?
And this sets off a cycle of guilt. Shame.
And trying to force/motivate/punish yourself to just.do.it.already?
Yeah.
That’s how I used to hound myself.
I no longer do. (Phew.)
How?
It’s simple. And also hard.
When your inner drill instructor starts barking at you, you let him bark.
You don’t run away from him.
You don’t obey his commands.
You don’t rebel against him.
You don’t bark back.
And you don’t lick his shoes.
No, you let him bark without paying much attention to him.
You treat his shouting like you treat other annoying noises you can’t control,
like the sound of an airplane flying way, way too low.
You register it, perhaps experience a flash of annoyance, and that’s it.
You know the plane and its noise will be gone in a minute.
You don’t have to do anything for that to happen.
It just flies on and silence returns.
Act like that when that drill instructor flies off the handle again.
Maybe for a minute or so his shouting will get louder.
It may feel uncomfortable and make you cringe.
So cringe.
No one ever died of that.
And soon, the shouting will get … less loud.
Or you just don’t notice it as much, you’re not sure.
It may take a while, but that drill instructor will get tired.
He will wear himself out.
He will retreat.
Pouting.
(Crying, even, maybe. Who cares?)
Oh, he may come back.
He probably will.
And you meet his shouting with the same silent treatment, every time.
Yes, it can be annoying.
So?
Let it be.
And there comes a day when the shouting is over.
The drill instructor retired.
Or moved to Timbuktu.
Or both.
(His grandkids may visit you.
But you laugh in their face.
They have no sway over you.)
And you?
You send that important email without rewriting it 37 times.
And don’t second-guess each word after you hit send.
You close your laptop and call it a day at 1.12 pm.
And don’t even feel guilty.
You relax.
And everything still gets done.
Turns out those arguments with that drill-instructor were always most of the work.
Love,
P.S. This is the shift that happens in private coaching.
Your drill-instructor retires on his own.
P.P.S. Liked this blog?
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