I don’t do pandering. I only do very limited, strategically placed sympathy. I don’t believe in comforting or familiar lies when a back-hand with a steel glove full of raw truth is available.
Because no change happens until you face yourself. No progress happens until you take responsibility for where you are and your role in the journey. No development happens until you are prepared to look at the holes in your soul and commit to darning them, lovingly, with yarn made of resolution, diligence and probably some form of yoga.
Motivation is not external to you. It is the by-product of your own momentum, that comes from getting to the point where you simply cannot do that shit anymore.
Fill the tank.
Start the engine.
I don’t believe in literal or figurative snooze-buttons. I don’t believe in a life lived in miniature packaging; cramming your purpose and your energy and your exuberance into a society-approved size carry-bag with something trendy stamped on the side so everyone knows you bought your (self?!) approval at the right store.
I don’t believe in setting your standards so low you trip over them on the way to the bathroom every morning. But I also don’t believe in setting them so high that the goal is always just that. Perfectionism is fear. Perfectionism is a poorly-disguised refusal to ship your art. Perfectionism is the reason you don’t open your soul. It’s never ready, is it…?
I don’t believe in not believing in yourself. Because you have to show everyone else how it’s done.