Motivation

I’ve always been more motivated by what I don’t want than by what I do want.

This fear has served me well. It has sent me out of the ordinary, out of where I don’t want to be. I think about the Twenty pilots song Leave the city that admits to not knowing where you’ll end up, or Brené Browns book Braving the wilderness, about leaving our clearly pronounced structures and stern belief systems.

And it reminds me of what a lot of people seem to be going through at the moment, or have been going through for a while. Churches, ministries, or just people. We know we’re not exactly where we should be, and so we lay things down, move out, take the first step in trust even if we don’t know where we’ll end up. The wilderness, or trench, as Twenty One Pilots call it, is scary, because it’s where we don’t have all the answers. And now we’re out here, not knowing the answers. 

It’s made me to think about my competitiveness. If you’ll stay with me for a moment:
I’m extremely competitive. Always have been. But it’s much more important to me to not lose, than it is to win. It’s bad, I think. People motivated by winning and succeeding will do anything for it, they’re fighters and victors. But for me: if there’s a chance I’ll lose I might not even want to try in the first place.

This is obvious in other parts of my life as well. I’m very motivated by what I don’t want. What kind of life I don’t want, what I don’t want to do, who I don’t want to be. The most motivating sentence to me has always been: “But what if I’m not?” in response to “What if I’m too scared to do all the things I’ve ever wanted.” My point: I am fully aware of what I’m moving away from.

Too aware.

Truth is, anyone can be a rebel. And our courage has served us well. So has our eagerness to obey God, to move out into uncertainty. But I’ve been out in the wilderness for a while now, and the problem with it not being a place for answers is that there still seems to be no answers. And so what I’ve decided is this: There comes a moment, out in the dust – with that city looming in the background – when we have to stop looking back at what we left and turn our heads to where we want to go. 

It is time to stop being motivated by what we don’t want and start being motivated by what we do want. If it hasn’t yet, the looking back, the awareness of what you don’t want, will make you desperate. What takes actual maturity is to look forward. To make a choice and move towards it. To be brave enough for what you want, even if you think you don’t know (Which, you do, you actually do, otherwise you wouldn’t have left that other place behind. It might just not be in the shape you think a dream should be.) Grow up, look forward. Maybe it’s a mirage, that city you see in the distance, I can’t promise that it’s not. There’s no way to see from this distance.

But I know you’ll never know if you don’t start moving towards it. 

Different Feelings:

(Different ways of being in places that aren’t really home)

Leaving – The sudden realization that you’ve already left a place. But you’re also still there. You walk the streets and you see the views, but like in an old photo where everything’s already memories.

Arriving – When you’ve put your feet down. Stopped walking, stopped pacing, stopped turning your head around. You’ve sat down and you’re there. A feeling that exists in short, defined moments, usually parallell to emotional contentment and the good kind of acceptance. Can echo into longer or shorter seasons.

Going – Similar but different from leaving. You know that where you are is for a time and that you’re going somewhere else, but it doesn’t make you any less present. Drop the emotional detachement. If leaving is the feeling that you should have already left, going is the knowledge that you will, when it’s time.

France

So, tomorrow I’m off travelling! Heading to France for a few days, to visit a friend in Aix en Provence and it’s the first time ever I’m flying somewhere on my own. So if this blog is suddenly and mysteriously abandoned, I’ve probably crashed, been kidnapped, stepped on the wrong plane or something else along those lines. Just giving you a heads up. Image

Seriously though, look at this place!? I’m there to visit my friend, but her living in a beautiful french town is quite a bonus. And I love travelling, especially going places on my own, it’s terrifying and exhilarating how everything depends on me and I feel like it’s a test, a shot at seeing how it is to walk the earth alone. Not belonging anywhere except for on the ground I stand on in that second. And then there’s the contrast of going to visit someone, where you suddenly put all your trust in that person, who’s the only one who actually knows the language and the people there. Trust her to take care of everything. And we’re gonna have the best of times. Image

Runner

You told me how I always fell in love with cars and not with houses, looked at a backpack with a smile but at a bookshelf with an aching heart. I was always going. I’m a runner and a poet, life pulls me in different directions. Keeps me going and makes my heart want to stay with what I find. I can look out the window of a bus and get the sudden urging need to remember every tree I see, to sit down under every single one and have picnic and the best day of my life. You don’t have to go far, and we don’t have to run, but I have to keep moving so that as many things as possible in this universe get the attention they deserve.