A Commitee of Assassins

I have a committee of assassins. They are my own personal jury of imaginary critics that exist in a constant state of opprobrium concerning my life around me.

You probably know them yourself, they sit there and tell you how you’re not good enough. Tell you how you can’t do something. Like folding my underwear. I hate folding underwear. As I write this I have a pile of underwear sitting on my couch. It’s not my fault. It’s my assassins fault. They won’t let me do it. They won’t let me forget it.

They try to stop me from showing up in my life. Very often they try to stop me from showing up at the gym.

“I’m too busy; my shoulder hurts; today’s workout is going to be too hard; I haven’t been eating properly; I’m not hydrated; shouldn’t I be stronger?; Shouldn’t I be faster?; shouldn’t I be more talented. Shouldn’t my underwear be folded?”

It’s a lot. It’s why I don’t go to the gym sometimes.

My assassins are dicks. They want me to slow down, be normal, not stand out. They are trying to promote exactly what your body is trying to promote in you: homeostasis. Nothing changes. Safety. From this point of view, Believe it or not, their hearts are in the right place. There is safety in indistinguishability.

But I can’t do that. Remain static. I love myself The way I am, but change has got to happen. I have goals, ambitions. And they’re pretty darn big.

I just want to thank you for reading this! 80% of success is just showing up (I read that somewhere once and it makes sense). These guys want to stop you from showing up. Why don’t you come in, and we can talk strategies for understanding what these guys have to say. From there we can get you on the road to real growth.

The trainer

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