The Natural History Museum of Human Struggle.

I’m doing this ascetic thing where I don’t drink wine or alcohol or eat chocolate or any desserts after dinner, nor look at YouTube or watch tv, because it occurred to me a few weeks back that these are all the best ways that I numb myself from the disappointment I feel in my life*, as well as the struggle I endure when I know I have to make myself get to work.

But can you see that there is a pattern here?

If I can’t feel the sting of disappointment and choose to numb myself instead, then I can’t feel what I need to feel in order to rally myself into rebellion. The coddling becomes like a false purpose (Steven Pressfield talks brilliantly about this in Turning Pro), but when the coddle session ends, I feel even more rotten than I did before. And the cycle continues.

I am aware, though you may not be, dear reader, that several blog posts ago, I wrote about the value in occasionally indulging yourself in the little things that truly give you joy and make you feel like a real person again.

That is not what I am talking about here.

Take it from a lifelong procrastinator. I know all of the best (legal) numbing agents, in case you want to run from your calling.

Because that’s what I’m really getting at here.

I’ve found that it can sometimes only be from inside the deafening silence of not knowing your calling that the faintest whisper of direction arrives. In order to get there, however, you must strip away your crutches and your excuses you tell yourself for why you're justified in doing such-and-such activity that takes you off-line. Then you must prove your readiness by staring down the fray and holding your nerve.

That is what I did this evening, sitting on the couch post-dinner. The usual restlessness and sense of disappointment followed after setting down my empty plate. Pour some wine, the little voice says. Eat sugar. Look at celebrities. I turned my head as if to turn my cheek from this bad advice. And then, something interesting happened. The restlessness and disappointment became generic discomfort. The feeling was akin to witnessing what I would describe as a “discomfort diorama.” I could walk around inside the discomfort and observe it from different angles. The feeling had become like an exercise, which then became introspection, then understanding, which then became this blog post.

What I am describing and ultimately encouraging is in no way easy. I do not know your pain threshold, nor how strong your need to be numbed might be. But if you’re ready (and you’ll know it when you are), then put down your phone or turn off the tv. Put back the bottle of wine or the bar of chocolate that makes your allergies act up, anyway.

It’s never easy to tell yourself no. But if it’s in service of your calling, you’ll eventually (and profoundly) come to thank yourself. The pay off, in fact, can be immediate.

Just don’t forget to indulge yourself every once in a while.

Yourself deserves it.

*I in no way whatsoever have a bad life. I have a beautiful life. But I am human and I have dreams and desires to live a bigger life than the one I am currently leading. And I’m impatient, transitioning through a pretty lonely phase of my life right now, at a time when I feel like so much is at stake and therefore required of me, hence the “disappointment” come nightfall. In case you were wondering.