A way to measure habits is by how long the streak is.
Another way is by how easy it is to start a new one after you’ve taken a break.
A way to measure habits is by how long the streak is.
Another way is by how easy it is to start a new one after you’ve taken a break.
You are not unlucky. You are not going through a bout of bad luck. You are certainly not a failure.
Things, both positive and negative, happen all the time. And you need to keep your sense open to be able to perceive the good ones as strongly as the bad ones.
Luck is important, but it can’t be the explanation you give to what’s going on around you.
The purpose of life is not to eliminate suffering. It is not to reduce it either.
The purpose of life is to get acquainted with it.
So that you can recognise it, manage it, and enjoy all the little moments when suffering is not there.
For as counterintuitive as it might sound, sometimes – perhaps often times – you don’t need a solution.
You need to listen to yourself and others.
You need to stay in the situation.
You need to allow time to pass.
You need somebody to be in it with you.
If you can accept this kind of immobility, you’ll find that solutions are just a bridge to the following problem.
When a friend doesn’t reply to a message, a colleague treats us with distance, or somebody is not as kind as we’d wish them to be, catastrophism swoops in. It whispers tales of abandonment and rejection.
It’s a distorted thinking that breeds anxiety, nudging us towards assuming the worst about others’ behaviour. It tempts us to construct elaborate narratives of abandonment or rejection. And it fails to consider alternative explanations such as busyness, personal difficulties, or simply a momentarily distracted mind.
In the end, what catastrophism does is putting at risk the very same connection we would like to preserve.
Pause. Take a breath. Challenge any claims.
It’s a sure way to start taking control of your thoughts.