When Nothing is Happening

​Performance in any field is down to the individual. We can make all the excuses we like, even call them reasons, but when it comes to getting it done, the only thing to do is to do it.
Very basic. Even simplistic.

Yet, it's amazing how many of us
Do.
Not.
Do.
What.
We.
Know.
We.
Should.
Be.
Doing.

It's addictive. We castigate ourselves for being remiss in our duties and then dive wholeheartedly into it on the following occasion, when faced with a routine but necessary duty, the kind of activity that doesn't excite us, isn't colourful or highly profitable, and yet if it isn't done and in place, the rest of our efforts are rendered useless.

This kind of repetitive procrastination can become compulsive. Like most humans in the world, I've done it myself. For instance, when it's time to prepare some figures at that time of the year, we can get out the books, gather receipts and invoices and other relevant documents and just as we're about to start, find the really important things to do, like give the dog a bone, check that there's water in the kettle in case someone calls, run out and check the car's tyre pressures, sweep the front hall, straighten all the pictures, don't want to appear sloppy in the Art Department of meticulously hung pictures, count the pens we have in the office and start rummaging for a long-lost fountain pen that could be anywhere between here and the last three houses through which we've moved.
But look anyway.
Just in case.
And you never know.

Finally, having run out of desperately important jobs to do, we reluctantly shuffle into our core chore. To our relief we find it isn't as bad as we thought it'd be, and we get through it uninjured and in one piece.

Now, what I've found over the years, and so have many with whom I've shared this, is that when we sketch out our agenda for the following day on the  night before,  commit to a Morning Ritual of Stretch 'n' Tone, Breathing, and reinforced with a Statement of Intent, things get done like clockwork.

Even the constant activity of performing the Ritual creates it's own direction and sense of purpose. It gives us the impetus to search for worthwhile directed attention. Over time, a deep sense of that purpose begins to pervade our language and our thoughts, and becomes part of who we are. Those thoughts and words begin to seep into that mysterious mind that we call the subconscious. At which point they begin to guide behaviours and actions; which are now chosen as supports to our aims and aspirations. 
It may take a little bit of time, and a lot of persistence and patience. 
But when it happens, it hits the life of the individual like a benevolent tornado.

And that's when true transformation can be said to have taken place.