When we say motivation is overrated, is it possible that we may be looking for motivation in the wrong places?
Is it possible that though we may not always FEEL as if we like doing something, we may still KNOW that we’d like doing it?
After struggling with finding the motivation to write for several years, I find that I used to associate motivation with an outcome. Sometimes, I still do.
What does it mean?
It means that, if I’m motivated enough I’d definitely achieve an outcome. It’s not false, in my opinion, but where I’d go wrong is I’d place an increased emphasis on the outcome as compared to the motivation.
External motivation, though excellent, it seldom is reliable.
Internal motivation, though it could be reliable, I find that I often place it on something that may not be as consistent or as assured as needed.
When we ask how to find the motivation, aren’t we asking, how do we find that place where motivation ALREADY exists?
In my experience, it came with the *you must know this term by now, I use it in almost every post* realisation that though I come close to giving up on life, I don’t. I still keep driving myself to go on.
2019 was about finding what’s the thing that drives me. What’s the feeling or the thought or the desire or the fear, that I hold on to when I come close to falling off an edge? Because that’s the part in me which I cling on to, during the tough times.
If there’s a teeny tiny boat in me that carries me safely and alive through an ocean during a storm, then why not also channel that boat during the times I’m without an ore, but in a wide, calm ocean?
Do you see where I’m going with this? Let me try again.
The boat exists. The problem was my assumption that I could only use the boat as a last resort to save my life, when all the time, it was available to be used as THE resort to LIVE my life.
Do I make a better sense now?
When I recognise and address the boat, I can gauge its build and capacity, to decide what else I can carry along with me, to keep the boat sailing, as opposed to: deciding first — what I want to carry — and then worrying about not having the means or the resources to build a cruise for it.
I hope the boat is making total sense by now.
If such a boat would rock itself, what’s your boat?
Questions for your potatomind:
What do you think carries you through the difficult times? Is it your faith, your desire, your self-esteem, your concerns, your feelings, your curiosity — what is it?
What could you do today that wouldn’t conflict with the boat you already have, however big or tiny?
Remember to take crunchy care.