Welcome to the third issue of Far Within. I'm writing to you from my backyard, where I've been examining the little orange tree that we planted last year. I see some flowers that will eventually turn into oranges but there's nothing of value yet. The kids (and their parents) have been waiting patiently for the fruit to come in so we can enjoy its juicy goodness. I've been using this opportunity to teach my kids (seven and four) the importance of staying patient and also how hard a tree has to work to create fruit from nothing. It's a good analogy to describe the months and years of tenacity, resilience, and work it takes to get something going. To kickstart something that will eventually bear fruit for years and years to come. The initial phase is the hardest, as they're witnessing themselves. The tree needs the right amount of water, food for the soil so the roots grow strong and deep, enough sunlight, and perhaps the most important of all, belief that it's going to thrive, even when (especially when) all signs are pointing to failure.
We're not much different, are we? We need the right mixture of hard work, luck, opportunity, and belief to take on a new challenge. To keep going when it feels like no one is paying attention, no one gets it, “why did I ever think this was a good idea?” When I start feeling this way, I remind myself of the conviction that I have in my path and in myself. It has taken me years to build a sense of self-belief that I can finally rely on. Yes, external validation is great and always welcome but I'm grateful that I no longer depend on it. It's simply a bonus. I talk about these topics and a lot more on the social channels so if you're interested, follow along on insta.
P.S. - I'm looking for good fiction book recommendations. What are your faves? Please let me know.
Somewhere around seven years of age, most of us develop a false belief: that other people are watching us as closely as we watch ourselves. It's called the Spotlight Effect, and psychologist Thomas Gilovich spent years studying it by sending college students into a room wearing a t-shirt so embarrassing they were sure it would be the only thing anyone remembered. Afterward, he asked the students to guess how many people had noticed. Then he asked the room. The students guessed nearly half. The real number was closer to one in ten.
This is the gap we live in. Not a small miscalculation, but a consistent overestimation of our own visibility, the assumption that our stumbles, our outfits, our too-loud laugh are being catalogued by everyone around us the way we catalogue them ourselves. But they aren't. Because everyone is busy noticing themselves. Replaying their own comment from the meeting, worrying about their own stain on the shirt, starring, as we all are, in the film only they are watching. The spotlight effect isn't evidence that you don't matter, it's evidence that everyone matters equally to themselves, and that the audience you imagine watching your every move was never actually there. There's a relief in that. The spotlight you feel isn't real. There’s a lot of freedom in that. Freedom to explore, freedom to make mistakes, freedom to be who you are without constantly looking over your shoulder to see who’s noticing your mistakes.
🧺 Good Finds
A few things worth paying attention to
🗂️ Open Tabs
☕️ How many cups of caffeinated coffee are safe to drink each day?
