What I’ve Learned as a Therapist (Part 3): Do the Thing
Written by Monica DiCristina
If left to my own devices, I would live entirely in my head. I would imagine my life without ever having to risk the feeling of failure or embarrassment. I could create a whole world of dreams and goals that I’m passionate about within the confines of my imagination. It’s safer there! And that’s a wonderful place to start, but so often we stop there, and we wonder why we feel so stifled, frustrated, and stale.
I spend a lot of time with people’s wishes and ideas—with what they want to do or try—just idling at the starting line. Or they’re walking away from the starting line, wringing their hands, walking back up to the starting line, only to retreat again. I’m not different, we all do this. It’s not failure, it’s just the human condition. It’s scary to begin.
The fear is usually about what could go wrong or what other people might think. It’s heartbreaking to see the power that judgment has on us. We fear it so deeply. It stems from the deep need we all feel to be connected and belong. I believe this is the way we were created, and it’s good. We sometimes get the need to be connected confused with a need to be accepted, but they’re not the same thing, not even close. Being deeply connected may only occur with a few emotionally safe people in your life, who allow you to grow and change. Being “approved” by large groups online or in person will never fill the void of being close to others. It feels like it will, but it’s an itch that’s never satisfied. And so, part of starting something you fear other’s eyes on or thoughts about is separating connection and acceptance. You can be lovingly connected to God and others and risk a lack of acceptance. And that’s often what trying something new will require.
What I’ve found over the years is that the magic is in the doing—not only starting but continuing—and in the lessons that can only be learned by experience.
Once we get the courage to try—to not only stay in the discomfort of the starting line but to actually start—we can begin to learn the lessons that only action (unfortunately for us daydreamers) can provide. What I’ve found over the years is that the magic is in the doing—not only starting but continuing—and in the lessons that can only be learned by experience. What we learn by doing the thing, whatever it is, isn’t only that we can survive, even thrive, while risking a lack of approval from others, but that we’re worth the risk. There’s a great amount of self-trust and confidence that can only be gained by doing something—starting the online business, leaving that job, going back to school, training for a marathon, learning to bake. And the foolishness we feared feeling is so much smaller in comparison to the journey we step into. It turns out the risk wasn’t the vulnerability of the try: it was the imprisonment of never trying.
When we start trying to do the thing rather than fearing what others think or fearing the outcome, we free ourselves to become more of who we were created to be. This is another annoying thing about thinking versus doing: you can’t become more and more who you were made to be just by thinking about it. Becoming and growing happens in the doing. It’s worth it, not because we’re guaranteed an outcome that we want, but because of who we become in the process. The more you practice doing what you imagine, the more you’ll feel courageous and develop compassion for others in similar boats. It’s very easy to judge others when you sit on the sidelines, but when you start to do the thing, big or small, your compassion for the courage and grit that takes will make you a cheerleader for others. Courage and compassion are on the other side of the starting line.
And so, what I’ve found after all these years of sitting with people up close in their dreams, ideas, and hopes, is that it’s always better to try. It’s always better to do the thing. We learn lessons about ourselves and life that we could never have learned otherwise. And though we think the risk is only worth it if the outcome is what we want—what I find over and over again is that the lessons learned, the courage ignited, and the compassion for self and others that grows are worth more than we can ever imagine as we tremble before the starting line.
The good stuff is on the other side, and the good stuff cannot be measure by success or failure. It’s the gift to the doer, and I find it’s always worth the taking the risk.
Related Articles
What I’ve Learned as a Therapist (Part 2): Knowledge Doesn’t Keep You From the Human Experience
“I should’ve known better,” is a phrase I’ve heard many times and said myself. It’s a statement made in frustration and often in pain about how something has impacted us, or a decision we’ve made that we wish could be different. “I can’t believe that impacted me so...
What I’ve Learned as a Therapist (Part 1): The Power and Problem of Simple Truths
There is great power in simplicity, or insight that’s distilled to its essence. I think about this a lot as a therapist because I find myself giving annoyingly simple recommendations to clients at times. However, oversimplification—paring something deeply complex...
My Body Is a Temple
The first time I heard the phrase, “your body is a temple,” it did not click. Truthfully, I had been hearing that phrase my whole life. I heard that phrase when I didn't feel like brushing my teeth as a kid, I heard it thrown out to me quite a bit in my teenage years...
