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After a concert, a fan once approached the great violinist Isaac Stern and said, “Mr. Stern, I would do anything to play like you.”
“Really?” answered the virtuoso. “Would you practice 10 hours a day for 20 years? Because that’s what I did.”
I’ve been thinking about the powerful effect of Consistency and why it’s such a challenging practice for many of us, and I believe the answer lies in our relationship with Intensity.
I worshiped Intensity for more decades than I care to admit!
Go big or go home was my motto.
How long have you believed that if you just had more willpower, you could finally make that habit change you’ve tried and failed at so many times? If you ask people why they want to work with a Professional Coach, one of the top three reasons they will give is to get help cultivating or stopping a habit. What they are hoping to get from coaching is a secret code that will supersize their low to non-existent willpower. Instead, what they learn (over time, not overnight) is the correct use of willpower and the cultivation of what makes genuine and sustainable habit change, which is a thing very different from willpower. It’s Identity Engineering. But first, a word about willpower.
People like us, growth-minded optimizers that is, LOVE lists! Data supports our intuition that lists work. People who create lists become more conscientious over time and procrastinate less, which brings to mind Annie Dillard’s wise words, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
What if you had indisputable evidence that your words could unquestionably shape your life? What if, like magic, everything you uttered created your reality, both for the better and the worse?
Pain made itself at home in my body sometime in my forties. Those who are quick to blame my trail and ultra running practice as “too much” and, therefore, the cause of my pain should note that my pain began years before I even knew there was such a thing as an Ultramarathon. I used to be embarrassed to admit that I suffer from chronic, unexplainable pain in my body. Every doctor I visited (starting two decades ago) gave me a diagnosis from the point of view of their narrow specialty. It was the classic hammer-and-nail analogy.
Recently, I wrote a piece on regrets—specifically, how to not create them. I shared Bronnie Ware’s book, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying, a worthy read which, contrary to our perception of the subject, is not morbid but inspiring. After I published my piece, many of my readers asked me to explain what I thought Ms. Ware meant by seemingly the most abstract of the regrets, “I wish I had let myself be happier.” What does that even mean? And how do we make it real?
“Love you” are two words we either say too often or not enough. Years ago, an ex-boyfriend noticed I don’t end my conversations with loved ones with “love you” as he did. Of course, he knew how much I loved my kids, and on my part, I just thought it was silly to keep saying it.
Freedom has been my most significant life value even before I had the words to define it. My earliest and fondest memories are of roaming in our magical garden in Iran and feeling free to do and be whatever I wanted. That was my 5-year-old mind’s definition of freedom.
It’s that time of the year; whether consciously or not, we are all taking stock of the year that passed and thinking about the one ahead. You may or may not decide to set goals for the new year, but if you do, consider making them goals that change who you are rather than just what you do.
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