Play to Win or Plan to Lose

I can’t get out of bed. In fact, it’s been the past couple weeks that I haven’t been able to get out of bed before 9AM.

I made plans to wake up at 6, head to the gym to work out, and get my workday started by 8. Instead I shut off my alarm, turn over, and enjoy my comfortable bed until 8:30.

When I make plans for improvement, I write them down and get fired up thinking that I’m planning my way for success. When nothing is done, do you know what I’m left with? Fantasies.

What stops me from turning plans into successful action? My mind. You can call it being lazy, but when I think too much into something, I’m unable to take action due to the fearful thoughts of things going wrong. It’s analysis paralysis; I’ve battled it for years.

For instance, my 6:30AM gym plan. Instead of going like any normal person, I think (analysis part); “well, it could be packed at that time and I don’t want to wait to use weights or benches.” It’s back to bed or check each social media app on my phone until I finally get up, so I never make it to the gym (paralysis part).

How does one get analysis paralysis? For me, it came from self-pressure to look good at everything I did so I can impress others more than myself. Decisions based on ego and not actual self-improvement. It forced me to pick and choose what to do because no one likes to look foolish when they’re doing something for the first time and they’re afraid of breaking the "rules".

That’s not the way to live. Instead of being paralyzed from thinking, I’ve learned to lessen the pressure by looking at every opportunity as a way to play, like when we were kids. There are never questions or worries when you’re out playing, only having fun with friends and being yourself. (James Altucher writes about this perfectly here: http://bit.ly/19CG6kf)

I wanted to get into art, as another means of being creative, but always pushed my projects back because what’s the point? I’d think about not knowing what colors mesh, it won’t look good, and I can buy art pieces to save myself troubles.

Now I throw a bunch of paint on a canvas and proclaim; "Picasso!" I know it’s not a masterpiece (it’s barely a piece, never mind one of mastery, as you can see), but looking good isn't what matters; I had fun and it made me happy, which is what success is all about.