Belief vs. action
“I have a hard time talking to new people,” says a seventh grader. “I have social anxiety.”
“I’m such a procrastinator,” says another. “I know what I’m supposed to do, but I will avoid it until the last possible moment. I feel terrible about it.”
It’s not a bad thing that this generation of kids is very self-aware. It beats the cluelessness of my own cohort -- we didn’t have the Internet to help us figure out what was going on or find people who shared and validated our weird traits. But I worry sometimes that all the labels these adolescents give themselves will prevent them from seeing that they always have the possibility of changing their habits and disrupting their patterns, even if their personality remains fixed.
Despite the importance of mindset — the beliefs and stories we have about who we are and what we can do — it is ultimately action that determines our results. It is entirely possible to take an action even when it doesn’t match our beliefs and stories. Doing this can create forward motion and change our lives. We can keep being stuck in our heads, but in the meantime, we’re making progress.
For example, suppose you wanted to get better at the guitar. There may be many obstacles: You are afraid you’ll never be as good as your friend, you feel like you keep playing the same old songs, you don’t think you’re talented enough, your guitar never stays in tune, you’re embarrassed for anyone in the house to hear you play, and so on.
These beliefs and stories are powerful, but they do not have to preclude action. If you study with a teacher who will show you exactly what to do, and you practice every day according to the teacher’s instructions, you are going to get better at the guitar.
Yes, you will experience moments of misery when the old stories and beliefs come up. It may be agony to deal with the guitar continually going out of tune, and you may indeed experience profound embarrassment at the thought of everyone in the house being able to hear you. But none of that has to stop you from playing.
I have worked with hundreds of aspiring musicians over the years who wanted to get better, but quit instead. It’s not about talent. It’s about commitment. Those who put in the time will reap the rewards. We already knew that part, though. What I’m pointing out here is that the obstacles aren’t usually logistical, but emotional. Many of us feel a sense of guilt or shame when we think about sitting down to play. This feeling may be enough to prevent us from picking up the instrument in the first place. And when we are finally able to sit down to play, we might feel bored, frustrated, humiliated, distracted, annoyed, tired, or feeble-minded.
With all of those negative emotions, it’s no wonder that we quit. But we don’t have to. We can make the commitment to play in spite of all of these awful feelings if we want the result badly enough.
It’s easier to achieve what you set out to do if your belief that you can succeed is stronger than the feelings that would tell you otherwise. But it can also work the other way. Grimly pursuing the activity can strengthen your belief in your own ability. It’s a leap of faith, in a way — but it’s also not. It’s just a thing you can do, and keep doing.
For example, I have a belief that I am terrible at the routine tasks of life: Making appointments, doing paperwork, and so on. Like so many of the dreaded things on my to-do list, the sequence of actions might begin with a phone call. Making the call isn’t physically difficult once I make the choice to do it. I put in the numbers and press the green button. I talk to the person on the other end. Following the steps after that to complete an obligation may be inwardly excruciating, but I can still carry them out. Put the appointment on my calendar. Click on the link, download the paperwork, fill it out. Go to the appointment.
Believing in ourselves is important. It cuts down on the noise in our heads -- the voices that tell us that we are worthless and stupid and should just give up. But we can take action even if that belief in our own strength isn’t there. We can choose to ignore and override the inner choir of naysayers and proceed even without their support. In the process, we will find that they aren’t as powerful and as we had thought.
Is it scary to publish a blog post or submit grad school applications or strike up a conversation with someone you admire? Maybe. But it’s also just an action: Click a button. Put a parcel in the mailbox. Say, “I like your hat.” We don’t have to link it to a story about who we are and who do we think we are. We can simply do the thing.
Whatever you set out to do, you can take the first step. There’s no stopping you.