Remind yourself constantly:
And then leave work guilt-free because…
Well, do we need to repeat it again?
Sometimes, meditating might make you feel anxious.
Of course!
…Because you’re choosing to confront an anxious mind that’s full of clouded, mudded, raging thoughts.
Here’s the thing: the means to settling an anxious mind isn’t done by stirring it up with more information, stimulation, and distraction—it’s done by giving it the space it needs in absence of those things.
Sitting with the discomfort is the means.
And what you might realize, is that your raging mind—like a child raging with a temper tantrum—does eventually relent to the space, boredom, and non-stimulation of a good timeout.
The only question is, can you be firm enough to put your mind in timeout or will you continue to let the child of your mind rage?
Stop making it worse.
Yesterday, my hometown got 18 inches of snow.
All at once.
And when I looked out the window—all I saw was work.
But, when I looked out the window later that day, I saw a boy across the street jumping and playing in it.
And I didn’t see work anymore.
I saw magic.
If your ability to create (or do) is dependent on your need for inspiration, you’ll never fulfill your potential—especially not in today’s world.
Here’s why: distraction is the enemy of inspiration.
And if I had to pick just one word to describe the modern age we’re living in, I’d probably choose: “Distracted.”
Prior to the information explosion that came with the internet, modern gadgets, and social media—”waiting around” for inspiration was actually probably a great strategy.
Because here’s what I know about inspiration: it comes when I’m undistracted. It’s when I’m showering, staring at blank screens, meditating, walking my dog, driving, and/or sitting bored.
And “waiting around” prior to the information age probably consisted mostly of the things on that list. Today, however, “waiting around” consists mostly of… consuming distractions.
It never ceases to amaze me how quick I am to pull out my phone when I sit down in a public place alone—like when I’m waiting for my dinner party to arrive or when I’m waiting at the doctor’s office. The urge is almost unbearable.
And not just for me, but for the other phone-scrollers in the room. Or so it feels.
We’re addicted.
And because we’re addicted to distraction, we’re equally in conflict with inspiration.
This isn’t to say that we won’t get inspiration from the ocean of information that we consume—because we certainly may.
It is to say, however, that it isn’t being properly utilized. We need to do a better job of coming out of the ocean to regroup, reorganize, and reflect upon our findings.
Otherwise, we’ll continue flapping around, following treasure signs, and getting more and more lost at sea.