On Motivation – Wanting to give up

I would like to dispel a myth today – the myth that successful people are determined from day one and never for a second think about giving up.

Of course I can’t make this claim with absolute certainty. I suppose it’s possible there are outliers – people with wills of steel (or perhaps just a powerful ability to deny) – but being that these people are just plain better than me and clearly possess a definitive superiority over the rest of the human race…well, I try not to think about them too much. I mean, that’s just discouraging.

Now, I’m a very determined person. I’ve got big plans, and I’m not afraid to talk about them because I know that even though they may not work out, I will do anything within the realm of possibility to give them even the smallest chance of success. (Forget modesty when it comes to your ambitions – I say talk a huge game, bust your ass trying to walk as much of it as you can, and then be happy with the outcome, and with yourself.)

All this being said, I still think about giving up sometimes. Pretty often, actually.



That’s right. On a semi-regular basis, maybe once or twice a week, I think about giving up. I think, Fuck this, I’m done.

Seriously, when I’m in the moment, experiencing this kind of feeling, it’s not a casual thing. It’s real contemplation, real consideration.

Specifically, when I think about giving up on our social venture, I think:

Why bust my butt (unsolicitedly) trying to help other people overcome depression and unleash their potential? Why (practically) impose my ideas on the world and come off as an arrogant prick? Why intrude on other people’s lives and disturb the peace (and put myself in uncomfortable situations in doing so)? Really, most of the time I’m a pretty solitary guy and would just prefer to leave everyone alone.

Why tackle such a seemingly vague and amorphous challenge, one with murky metrics and colossally entrenched interests?

Why not look out for number one? I’ve got a lot of other interests, and I’m well aware that I won’t always be young and vigorous or what have you. Physical peak is, what, 26?

Why not give up?

***

Two nights ago, on the way back from dance class in the city, I passed out on the train and overslept my stop. I woke up just as we were pulling away, the “Princeton Junction” sign mocking me through the windows of the train.

Fuck, do they even have another train running back towards New York this late at night?

I got off at the next stop, Hamilton, and it was utterly deserted. Train station barren, shrouded in the dark night.

Standing there with my duffel slung over my shoulder, I realized it’d been a long time since I’d experienced this kind of aloneness.

Let me tell you, it’s one thing to be alone. Being alone and cold is another thing entirely. (Being alone and cold and hungry is yet a third, but thankfully I’d eaten that day)

I checked the schedule on the bulletin – one last train headed my way in the night schedule, 1:05. Hallelujah. Then I checked my watch. 12:40.

To pass the time, I ran thoughts through my head, even though I didn’t feel like it. Blackbody radiation…anything with mass gives off heat, yes? I should stay near the train station building, right?

I slipped my bag off and started rehearsing the new choreography, but I didn’t know it well enough to do it alone, and w/o the music (Lady Gaga ft. Beyonce – “Telephone”).

I would’ve worked on memorizing my monologue, but I didn’t have my gloves and it was too cold to hold a book with exposed fingers.

Then someone else showed up.

Visually prejudiced, I immediately judged him as a rough character by his clothes and his luggage. But when he stepped back and lit a cigarette, I practically could’ve hugged the guy.

That simple gesture of lighting up was such a human gesture, it immediately comforted me.

I felt infinitely less alone – such is the gift of being around other people. It’s something we often take for granted, but isolate yourself for long enough and you really learn to appreciate it. Trust me on this one.

Anyway, a few minutes after 1:05, the train came, and the two of us boarded.

***

There were five of us in that section of the train. Two were uniformed Assistant Conductors. The other two turned out to be transit workers as well, just getting off duty to go home for the night. And me.

Two of them struck up a conversation. Then one of the off-duty transit workers looked up, slipped off his headphones, and said,

“You talking about what happened yesterday?”

They weren’t at all, but they let him continue.

“Yeah, well, yesterday I was coming home at like 1 AM, and there was a big commotion over here, lots of police cars and stuff. They didn’t let us get off, took us straight to Trenton, and you could see a body wrapped in a sheet. Someone threw themselves in front of the train. Suicide, apparently. ”



One of the Assistant Conductors: “That’s the fourth one this week. Two on Monday alone.”



I pipe in: “Is that about usual? Four?”



Assistant Conductor: “Well it’s after Christmas. Right after the holidays, that’s when you see a lot.”



Off-duty transit worker: “Yeah, suicide…must be depression. A LOT of depression out there.”



Other off-duty transit worker: “Man, people just react differently, you know? I mean, you get in some financial trouble or something, what’s that worth killing yourself over, you know? Then you just putting some financial troubles on your family, ‘cause now they gotta bury you.”



Me: “Well, it’s not a logical decision at that point. The brain does nothing but register constant intense pain, so it seeks escape.”



At that point we pulled into Princeton Junction so I got off, unable to continue the conversation, but thoughts were racing through my mind.

***

Sometimes the sheer magnitude of the challenge we’re going at scares the shit out of me. No joke, I get terrified.

Our venture only addresses one tiny portion of that challenge – and that alone terrifies me.

Everywhere I go, I bump into people who reaffirm the reality of the challenge. And that terrifies me.

Seriously, it’s unreal how widespread depression is these days. And often you wouldn’t know it unless something came up that smacked you in the face. People don’t really ever talk about it, it seems, unless they’ve personally been affected by it in some way.

I was talking to a cafeteria worker at Olin, John, about our social venture a while ago, and John said to me, “Depression? You won’t have trouble finding business there. Depression, that’s everywhere…”



At an open call in NYC with RE:QUEST Model Management, they asked me what my hobbies were. I guess I don’t really have any these days, so I told them I was working on a social venture to help college kids fight depression. One of the guys cynically put out, “Hmm. Pop some pills, right?” Then one of the women who worked there said, “Wow, good for you. Good luck!”



In acting class, I met someone who turned out had been diagnosed with schizophrenia/depression in India, and who absolutely detested the way he’d been treated by all the psychiatrists he’d dealt with there. He told me he would’ve loved to have had the chance to try out the kind of program we’re looking to start soon.

At a Brookline Booksmith event in Brookline, MA, I plugged this blog and our social venture during Gretchen Rubin’s talk about her book, “The Happiness Project.” See here for details (sorry Ms. Rubin for using your space, and here’s some publicity back: http://www.gretchenrubin.com/) But people came up to me afterwards, and one woman opened up to me about her nephew in college who has having major problems with depression.

Even business-oriented people I speak with like our idea. A few people have said that they are generally very skeptical of these types of ideas, but that they like ours.

The only trouble is that it may be somewhat of a logistical nightmare to pull off…

***

The fact is, I consider it a privilege and honor to work in this space.

As much as I want to give up sometimes to pursue my other interests, I know I’m not dropping out on this. I think our idea – hooking people up with their passions in an environment that encourages constructive failure and embraces imperfection – has enormous potential. And not necessarily just for “depressed people” – if I can possibly do it, I’d like to take it to the prisons (Hari has a good story about this) and to the delinquents, and so on.

The fact is, it’s not a new idea. Looking back now, Jane Addams’ Hull House strikes me as similar (if I’m remembering them correctly), and I once read about some sort of “street MBA program” I think. Hell, when we came up with the idea, we had the Boy Scouts and RPG’s in mind…

But ideas are often most about execution and implementation. They’re about people. People who can make things happen.

My gut tells me my team and I are the right people at the right time to make this happen, and for that reason alone, I’m not giving up on this venture.

***

The thing about wanting to give up, even on the really important things – It’s okay.

As long as in the end you don't.

-David

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On Motivation – Finding your anchor (Part I)

It seems there are so many external sources of motivation these days. For the young college student, the first few links of the motivational chain may go something like this:

GPA – Recommendations – Internships – Grad/Professional School – Jobs

And so on.

Add to the mix external factors that are less tangible but still exert a strong presence, existing somewhere in the ether: parental approval, societal influences, etc. It can get pretty overwhelming.

Presumably this will all lead to the grand finale: “The good life.” But what does that even mean? What does it mean for you?

The thing about external sources of motivation is that they’re just that – external.

Mangle or knock out one or two links of the chain, and you may end up shafted.

What then?

Even if things go smoothly, many people find themselves discontent with what they have, even years and years after they’ve accomplished everything on “their list,” or at least the list they made taking cues from external pressures.

Hence, the mid-life crisis phenomenon.

Traditionally, we look upon the mid-life crisis as a source of amusement, even hilarity.

But is it really all that funny?

If you think a little deeper, it’s actually pretty tragic. People with an enormous amount of potential channel all of their energies and ambitions into following the links of the chain, and in the process subordinate their individual genius to fit the cookie-cutter standard.

What a fucking waste.

And how utterly lethal to personal growth and health.

If you plan and carry out your entire life according to external sources of motivation, you cheat yourself in the grandest way possible.

You destroy the essence of you.



What drives you? What gets you jazzed? Passionate? Fired up? And on a consistent basis – day in and day out?



These are the questions you must start answering now, and those (evolving) answers are what will stay you through the most difficult of times. That is,

You must find your anchor, and you must find it now.



What will sustain you when life hits you with a grand piano from the 100^th story of a skyscraper? (Thanks Looney Tunes, for the idea)

And how do you find this anchor?

The thing about an anchor is that it must be personal – it must come from the inner.

None of this external crap.

To find your anchor, draw upon all of your previous experiences, and really reflect hard on what’s important to you. Then use your imagination, and just go with it.

Know that words and images and memories can be powerful tools.

They can be used both positively and negatively.

I strongly encourage you to dig deep and find your anchor, and to use that anchor as a source of eternal strength.

Fuse together words that are meaningful to you, images that stick with you, and memories that are powerful for you, and use them to motivate yourself, even when you have nothing else left going for you.

Remember that you don’t have to have just one anchor. You can have many, perhaps different ones for different situations.

And don’t feel like you’re being inconsistent if your anchor(s) change over time – that’s perfectly fine, and might even be an indicator that you’re doing a good job of living.

They say that mid-life crises are becoming quarter-life crises these days. Usually, this carries w/it a sort of gloomy doomsday prophecy tone.

I say that this is a great sign. It’s better to grapple with the crucial issues sooner, rather than later (or never at all).

If you are of college age, or near it, and you are going through some really difficult shit, know that now is the ideal time to go through shit.



You have so much time to learn, and so much time to course-correct.



Radical change is possible in the shortest of times.



I know because I did it.



If you’ve made major mistakes in our life, pledge to yourself to learn from them, then forgive yourself and move on.

Keep on making new mistakes, and keep on learning from those too.

Struggle in uncertainty is good. It helps you move toward clarity.



-David

P.S. Read the continuation post for an example of an anchor – one of mine.

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On Motivation Part II - Being mentally tough and making use of haters

Several hours ago today, I was working on a completely different entry for this blog when something occurred that greatly disturbed my equilibrium – so much so that my chest got tight, and I found it slightly difficult to breathe. I had to stop writing, go change clothes, jog through the rain and to the gym, and do a work out (lower body + abs) to relieve my stress.

But let me rewind to give you some context.

As I mentioned in a previous post – and really it’s abundantly clear on its own, without being voiced – a blog is damn near useless unless people read it (and, I might add, think about what they read).

Now, I’ve been disappointingly lazy when it comes to marketing my blog online through the blogosphere, partly because technology is not at all my forte, and partly because I value creating substantial content first, before selling empty air. Still, I do realize I need to get more people reading right away.

With that in mind, this morning I took a quick inventory of what I am good at doing and came up with…showing up in person.

Sometimes to places I don’t really have any place showing up to.

Being that Olin College of Engineering is where I found three awesome people to work with and bounce ideas off of (shoutout to Alyshia, Hari, and Colin), and being that there are only 300 or so students there (read, manageable), I decided upon Olin as my first target.

Milas Hall – that’s where Olin’s library is located – opens to the general public at 9 AM on Mondays through Fridays, so a little after 8:30 or so I got in my car and drove over. I arrived almost right at 9, parked my car in Lot B, and hauled my printer over to Milas. (I keep my printer in my car because I often find myself in situations where I need on-the-spot printing. Really.)

I went into one of their closed-off rooms so as not to be noisy, quickly made a poster on Word that I thought was at least moderately enticing, then printed out 50 copies. Then I went to a few of their buildings – they only have five – and did the simplest version of the whole guerilla-marketing thing.

That is, I left an obnoxious amount of posters – on every single public table in the entry level of their library, on every single public table of their academic building (on all four floors), and on a few of the bulletin boards in their campus center.

No big deal, right? It was a quick job, though by the end of it I was sweating a bit from lugging around the printer.

Afterwards, I drove over to Wellesley College nearby – I already had some business to look into – and put up the remaining posters there. Several very kind women there, either professors or administrators I’d guess, even offered to put up a few on their department bulletin boards.

I drove home thinking to myself, a good morning’s work. Mental pat on the back for this guy.

Now, flash forward to the pseudo-angina-inducing event.

I opened my email and found this (I’ve concealed the contact info for the sender):

Date: Mon, 30 Nov 2009 11:49:17 -0600

From:

Subject: Who even are you?

To: "dhu13@uchicago.edu" <dhu13@uchicago.edu>

And why are these signs on my campus? I'm honestly kind of offended that you think I might care about your money or your blog. Your flyers are litter. I'm trashing them.

For a brief moment, my world crashed in on me.

Now I’m a very tough person, mentally (physically, not so much). Probably one of the toughest I know – and I’m not one to exaggerate my strengths.

Things that bother most people don’t faze me the slightest.  And that’s probably just a product of the fact that I don’t care about most of the things most people care about. The fact that I value being true to my (constantly evolving) self more than I value fitting in.

When people give me shit, I immediately internalize it. Note that I said I internalize it. I don’t block it out, or ignore it, or dismiss it. I internalize it.

Here’s the thing about being mentally tough.

It does NOT mean you are callous. In fact, hardening yourself to the world is nothing but a façade for deep insecurity. That’s the equivalent to having “a left hook that would move a tank” but “a heart the size of a split pea,” to quote Clint Eastwood’s Million Dollar Baby. You can knock out all of your feelings, but you’re still small on the inside. You don’t have heart.

George Bernard Shaw would go so far as to say that being indifferent is not only cowardly, but inhumane as well:

“Indifference is the essence of inhumanity.”



And this draws an interesting parallel with the state of people who suffer from severe depression – we become so indifferent to everything that we truly feel like we are not human.

But that is a hefty tangent topic for a separate post on a separate occasion.

For now, let’s return to the story:

I opened this email, and it brought back in one flood of emotion all of the doubts I had in myself during the past few weeks.

I’m not sure you’ve ever been in this kind of situation (I touched on what it’s like in an earlier post, “On Change – Making the best of it”). But when you are outside of the mainstream, and don’t really have any set place in society, you pretty much have one of two options.

1 You pass time in isolation, and unable to force any sort of discipline or structure upon yourself, you underachieve and squander your potential away. You blame these failures on simply not being in the right place, at the right time, with the right people.

But I’ve always thought that the loss of human potential is one of the most heart-breaking things in the universe, and it’s infinitely more pathetic if it’s due to your own agency, or lack thereof.

Option 1 clearly doesn’t work for me.

2 You seek out and create the environment you need to thrive in, overcoming all barriers that stand in your way to do so. You find the right places, wait preparedly for chance to favor you, and forge the connections with the people you need.

Much better. (sorry I sound like a motivational speaker, but I’m being honest here)

This is what I did at Olin. I also did it at Babson and at Wellesley.

I showed up.

Now keep in mind, this will only work if you have a firm purpose in mind. Nobody’s going to be receptive to you if you just go there and mess around.

But I knew exactly what I wanted: to start a social venture that will help smart driven college students suffering from depression – the “motivated depressed” – overcome their depression.

And because of this firmness of purpose and my willingness to show up, I opened up a whole new world for myself (with the help of many people, of course).

Along the way, I’ve encountered many obstacles, both situational and Homo sapien. The situational ones don’t bother me so much, because they are usually of the binary type – you either can change them, or you can’t.

But the human obstacles – doubters, haters, and naysayers – they kill me sometimes.

Because I know they can be changed.

I know there are some people out there who hate my guts. People who resent me for not “paying my dues” by getting a degree at “my own” college. People who despise me for free-riding on their resources.

To be honest, I understand their point of view. Sometimes when I feel their resentment – and it really can be a tangible real feeling – I feel ashamed of myself. Call it induced shame, or shame by osmosis.

Seriously, there’s no question, there have been times when I’ve used resources in ways that I’ve been uncomfortable with.

Holding my head high and keeping respect for myself during these times require me to be mentally tough.

Just to be clear, I don’t see myself as some sort of moral crusader on a path to save the world (who can therefore disregard rules and do as he pleases). No, I acknowledge that I am enormously flawed. I identify as a moral pragmatist, and sometimes I do things for the sake of convenience/expediency.

I do take shelter in the fact that ultimately I mean well, and that I not only mean well, but have the guts, the smarts, and the perseverance to do well.

Which I believe is a lot more than a lot of rule-abiding people can say.

There are a lot of inoffensive people in this world, but not quite so many effective people in this world – people who can get things done.

There is no question in my mind that I am one of these people, though only time will prove me right.

I hope that one day more people will be able to see this way – will be willing to break rules and forego policy for the sake of getting things done.

But in the meantime, I take shit from the haters, and I have my mechanisms for coping with this shit.

I internalize all criticism. Which means that it sticks with me – lingers on my mind long after it is said. If I find there’s truth to it, I incorporate it. I change myself. When you’re in unknown territory, you’re going to make mistakes. As long as you correct them and don’t repeat them, you’re doing great. But if I find the criticism to be shallow, reactionary, and useless, I use the hater's ignorance and spiteful words to fuel my ambition.

I keep in mind who I am, where I come from, and how much I’ve struggled to get to where I am. I remember how grateful I am for what I have, and how I intend to repay all of my debts. I remember my roots. They’re called roots for a reason – they ground you, hold you steady in times of difficulty.

I stay mentally tough.



And that’s exactly what I did when I received that email. My world crashed for a moment, but I gathered myself and responded with a kind and understanding email (not a scathing reply).

And you know what?

Once the guy found out more about my situation and about the blog (and really this was my mistake – a marketing mistake – for not including specifics on what the blog was about), he gave me some useful advice and wished me good luck.

TO RECAP AND SUMMARIZE:

I suspect there will always be those who see me as an intrusive asshole who has no respect for policy. Here's how I deal with it:

-I continue to show up, and don't let anything shake my firmness of purpose

-I internalize all criticism, using the good criticism to change myself, and using the useless criticism to fuel my ambition

-I remember my roots

-I stay grateful for everything I have, for all the people that have supported me, and remember that one day I will repay them back in full and more

I'm going to end with two quotes that I resonate with:

"N- n- now th- that don't kill me

Can only make me stronger..."

-Kanye West's way overplayed "Stronger"

And George Bernard Shaw again:

"The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man."

Sometimes you just have to do what you know you have to do.

-David

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On Motivation Part I - Waltham Common

Sometimes I find it difficult to motivate myself to do the things I need to do.

For me, this isn’t really the case when it comes to the pesky little tasks many people seem to enjoy putting off. If I see that the trash is full, I immediately take it out and replace the bag. If my laundry’s done drying, I fold it on the spot, rather than leave it for later after everything gets crumpled and wrinkles set in. These little responsibilities – the minutiae of life - I’ve already made habit of, and I’ve learned to take pleasure in taking care of small business in a swift manner. A chore like vacuuming can even help me relieve stress.

Being human, though, and thus (very) flawed, I sometimes encounter inner resistance when it comes to the big things.

To illustrate, here’s a list of things I should be doing that right now are probably more urgent than writing this blog entry:

1 Work on my StartingBloc Fellowship application (due 11/30)

2 Work on an idea for my application to The Unreasonable Institute

3 Work on my book

4 Aggressively market this blog. Unfortunately for us non-salesy types, King Content is powerless if He has no subjects. (ie if you never lay eyes on this)

Writing itself is difficult enough, but if I were being honest with myself, I probably could have finished this entry by now if I’d been under a time crunch. Which means I should have been able to finish it by now anyway.

When I find myself in a lazy rut that I can’t immediately get out of, I often head for the gym or go for a run – a cheap way to assuage my guilt over putting off the big things. I mean, who can knock health-consciousness? Answer: Not even your own conscience can knock health-consciousness.

Usually when I opt for the run, I prefer a sprint workout over longer jogs for the brevity and high-intensity they offer. I hadn’t been on a long-distance run in quite some time, until a few mornings ago I put on my running kicks and headed towards Waltham Common, a decent distance from the Brandeis campus, maybe 2 miles or so.

The moment I arrived at the Common, I remembered why I revere this place – why earlier this fall I ran there every morning before 7AM. If you’ve never been there, I’ll give a brief description so you can picture the scene a bit.

Waltham Common is basically a park, filled with trees, a few memorials and statues, several benches, a bandstand, and what looks like a little lovers’ enclave in one corner. Enclosing it on its four sides are Main St (the main commercial street in Waltham), Moody St, Elm St, and Carter St. During the summers, free concerts are supposedly held there each week by a different musical act. (I say supposedly because I’m a recent transplant to the area and haven’t been to any)

In the center of the park there are two concentric circles of red brick tiles in the ground. Etched into the bricks are soldiers’ names, and dates. Nearby, a sign reads,

Circle of Remembrance

A place for remembering those who sacrificed to keep you free.

Please respect it.

Inside the inner circle there stands a ring of six flagpoles, arranged in a hexagon. Flags fly for the Coast Guard, the Air Force, the Marine Corps, the Navy, MIA/POWs, and for the Army. Final color tally: two white, two blue, one black, one red.

In the center of this solemn ring of flagpoles stands one final flagpole – for the flag of The United States of America.

Five paths radiate outward from this center circle, like rays of the sun. Whenever I finish my run (I always end with a brief kick), I cross Moody St, take the path closest to me of the five, and approach the center circle. Even though passerbys – runners, strollers, running moms with strollers – often cross through the center of the circle, I’ve always felt an enormous reluctance to do so, as if I would be intruding on a sacred space. So I stop, just outside the outer circle, and begin my stretching routine, culled from my days playing ultimate on my high school team.

I know this routine by heart. I’ve done it so many times, both with the team and by myself, that I don’t even have to think about it. It’s just ingrained into my muscle memory. So this post-run stretch is really one of the best times for me to meditate –with the endorphins flooding my body, itself warm and loose.

As I sat stretching on the ground that day, warm butt upon the cool ground beneath me, it hit me strong – why I do the things I do, why I am the way I am. Why I motivate myself every day to be better than the day before.

Take a look around you right now. It doesn’t matter where you are. Just do it.

Take a look at the computer screen in front of your face (I assume you are reading this on a computer). The table or surface that supports the computer. The clothes on your body that you’ve become so accustomed to, you hardly notice they’re there. The walls of the room that shelter you. The very floor that supports your weight.

All of these things came with a price.

Yes, you (or someone else) may have paid for them with your hard-earned money. But the price was far greater than that.

Think of the countless before you who struggled on the behalf of mankind – on your behalf.

Think of the scientists and engineers who put in sweat and hours to envision and create the technology for you to read this blog. Think of the leaders of the world – and equally importantly, the citizens of the world – who fought to establish and maintain the peace you have right now to sit and read in leisure.

Think of the fallen soldiers and the defiant rebels who built this country for you, and who continue to protect and defend your basic liberties. When you hear sirens wail, think of the unnamed heroes who provide the essential services for your community – firefighters, police, EMTs. These people are heroes every single day, not just on the anniversary of 9/11.

I’m not advocating that you walk around every day making everyday decisions with historical events in mind. Nor should you feel guilty about or regret your abundance. Guilt and regret are largely useless, and to a certain extent even selfish.

Unless you use them to fuel positive change.

The other day in my car, the song “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2 came on the radio. If you’ve never heard this song and have some free time, check it out. There’s a great live version on YouTube – just type in “Sunday Bloody Sunday (Rattle and Hum)."

The song describes “the horror felt by an observer of The Troubles in Northern Ireland, mainly focusing on the Bloody Sunday incident in Derry where British troops shot and killed civil rights marchers.” (thanks Wikipedia) Bono’s voice lends the lyrics some powerful emotion.

The fact is, every day is a Sunday Bloody Sunday.

The fierce urgency of now that Martin Luther King, Jr. described in his “I Have a Dream” speech is just as relevant in today’s now as it ever was, and it always will be this way, at least during our lifetimes.

That morning at Waltham Common, those flags served me a powerful reminder that what I have is precious and sacred. I remembered that so much of what I have is due to the striving and sacrifice of others, and that I have the potential and even the responsibility to do the same for future generations.

And so now, whenever I need a shot of motivation, I just picture Waltham Common on a beautiful fall day.

Or, if I’m free, I slip on my Nikes.

-David

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On Motivation - Intro

If you’ve ever experienced depression, you realize pretty quickly that finding motivation becomes a primary challenge in everything you do.

First, there are the physical hurdles: loss of energy, lethargy, problems sleeping (for example, sleeping excessively and the inability to rise from bed), feeling fatigued or weak, problems with sexual function, all of the bodily aches (and headaches), and just in general a feeling of malaise that inhibits motivation.

Many of us also experience the psychological hurdles. We get a sense of futility and hopelessness and think, “Why does that matter? Why does anything matter?”

We see how bleary reality is, and wonder why the rest of the world doesn’t understand that they spend the overwhelming majority of each day thinking and talking about absolute horseshit.

OMG guys, did you hear about Miley’s nip slip?



Even when we’re with friends and the topic of discussion proves to be more substantial than celebrity gossip, conversations often wind up becoming contests of wit, with each contestant aiming more to impress and overpower than to articulate and learn. And while this can sometimes be enormously fun, especially if things get a little bawdy, the depressed person sees through this veneer of braggadocio with all the superhuman ability of, well…Superman.

The point is, nothing seems worthwhile, and motivation goes vamoose.

So with this in mind, I’ve decided to start an ongoing series of posts on Motivation, of which this is the introductory post. Check back in soon for more!

-David

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