Quit, if you must

But you owe it to yourself to ask one question

Disclaimer: This article is produced for entertainment and informational purposes only. It is not a substitute for the help of a licensed mental health professional or therapist.

If you, or anyone you know, is struggling, seek help immediately from the Samaritans or local emergency services.

‘You don’t have to finish it.’

‘But I’m halfway through.’

‘Yeah, and you hate it.’

‘I don’t hate it,’ I grumbled. ‘Anyway, it’s useful for me to finish books. It means I learn more about writing.’

‘If you say so,’ my wife said with a sigh.

She was right, of course.

Usually is, unfortunately for me.

So why couldn’t I bring myself to shelve the bloody thing?

Why couldn’t I just quit?

All is uncertain

We’re hard-wired for routine.

Circadian rhythm is the music of our lives.

And when we’re busy, it’s the only album in our collection.

Yes, I remember those days.

I am, in fact, a millennial.

Don’t judge!

But here’s the thing about music:

Rests create rhythm.

The pauses between the notes build the sense of movement when they’re predictable and regular.

When they’re not, it creates the one thing humans hate above all else.

The real reason we keep repeating our harmful patterns long after they’ve lost their usefulness.

Uncertainty.

Holding on with empty hands

There’s a friend of mine that’s very dear to me.

But for the longest time.

Years in fact.

They believed their best years were behind them.

That they’d done everything that mattered.

Been their most impressive selves.

It didn’t matter that none of us agreed with this assessment.

It almost didn’t matter that they told me this on some nights when we were having totally new, exciting adventures.

And the thing is, I can’t even criticise them too much for this position.

Because I’ve done it myself, too.

Nostalgia can leech the joy from the present, because it feels like things were certain once.

But they never were.

The past is an echo that loses its tune as it moves down the tunnel.

And there’s only one light on the opposite side.

Change is the only inspiration

You might hate it.

I might hate it.

But whichever smug bastard came up with the phrase: ‘Change is the only constant’ wasn’t just onto something.

They were right.

Recently, I’ve started to believe it can go even further than that.

When you think about the stories that inspire you.

They aren’t tales of life going on as always.

For the most part, we’re obsessed with stories because they’re about change.

That one observable truth that’s confusing, frustrating, frightening, exhilarating, and yes, uncertain.

If you know where the tale is going and it doesn’t surprise you, then you aren’t reading a story. What you’ve got is an instruction manual.

When was the last time you read those for fun?

Think again

Stop or commit

So. How does this help you?

How can you know when to quit?

Whether it’s something you’re bored with, or a mindset that’s no longer serving you.

Just ask yourself one question:

Who will I be if I stop, or commit?

For me, stubbornly reading a book I loathed transformed me into someone that first read slowly. Then never at all.

When my friend stopped talking about the past, he found there was more to the future than he expected.

He’s no longer single.

You get to choose where you commit.

So I have to ask…

Where will you?

Binning the instruction manual

I still find it hard to shelve books. Even ones I dislike.

But recognising that fact makes me someone who’s working on choosing better.

That’s the kind of person I want to be.

And the most exciting thing?

You’re that person too.

Once you commit to knowing nothing at all about what’s next.

Your adventure can finally start.

To the intoxicating beat of your own drum.

Warmest regards

Your author

Stuart Found