Strangers in the Hall

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What I believe is more important than what I do. I can sit down and write every day, but if I don’t believe anyone will be interested in what I write, or that there isn’t a market for what I write, no matter how well-crafted and original those stories may be, they probably won’t get published. In fact, they’ll probably never be finished. Why finish something that will never be read?

When things aren’t going as I would like them to, my first inclination is usually to change what I’m doing. Different actions must mean different results! Yet if I don’t believe people will like what I’ve written, it doesn’t matter when I write, or what I write, or how much I write; the result will stay the same. If this goes on for long enough, my belief will become a quantifiable fact, proven by mounds of hard, irrefutable evidence.

It’s easier to change what I’m doing than what I believe. After all, I know what I’m doing because I’m doing it. I don’t always know what I believe. Maybe once long ago one person said they didn’t like one story I’d written, and I made a quiet a decision, made it so quietly I didn’t notice I’d even made it. Yet it lives within me as a guiding principle, a corrupt rudder leading me nowhere.

Fortunately, there is such a thing as suffering. All the crap I’ve believed in my life has brought me confusion and despair and frustration as sure as breadcrumbs in a pond brings ducks. It is not a question of whether I will suffer, but how much suffering I’m willing to endure before I change what actually needs changing. Once upon a time, I was willing to endure quite a bit. Now, not so much.

I know there are still some those cruddy beliefs hanging around my heart, loitering in the halls, smoking and cursing. I’m always a little afraid of them because I know what they’ll say when we meet: You’re not good enough. You don’t deserve this. You haven’t earned it. I can’t fight them or argue with them. I just need to let them speak, and in hearing them I might recognize a story I don’t want to tell, and now I can close that book and begin another.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.