For accessibility and ease, you can listen to this post narrated by Mike:
In our increasingly chaotic world, we have to fight for our vision every day.
There are infinite demands on our time. New “opportunities” that come through. More chores. More obligations. More family and parenting responsibilities. More financial worries. More courses and easy-to-implement formulas we’re convinced we need.
Just more of everything.
And, more often than not—at least for me—our vision can fall to the back of the line. I even forget what I really care about all the time, when I’m glitzed and glammed by exciting new projects or ideas from other people.
It’s hard enough to claim a vision—to answer the call that, yes, this is it. This is a seeming impossibility that we’re so compelled by we can’t help but want to pursue it.
But to hold that conviction in the face of—life? It feels damn near impossible.
And we’re always so optimistic, aren’t we? We always underestimate the toll life will have on us. We’re convinced that our current enthusiasm will never waver and can easily carry us through.
We visionaries are exceptional starters. We start all the time. We get so excited, and we can’t help but start.
We fall in love with all of life. And we fall deep. We passionately pursue this idea with our full hearts. Until maybe we become disenchanted with it. And a new one comes along to fall in love with.
In a few days, I’m headed back to Aruba—the place where Garrett and I got married a year and a half ago. So I’ve had love and commitment on my mind.
We both accompanied our moms down the aisle to a song about choosing the “Hell and paradise right here on Earth.” We put a lot of thought into what symbolism we’d literally walk into our marriage with.
Because, truthfully, I want that. I want the Hell. I want passionate fights and 4am screaming babies and money concerns. Just as much as I want the joy and happiness and laughter. I want a real life together. To do everything on Earth with Garrett, as Daisy Buchanan might say.
I want to choose Garrett when it’s convenient. But, more importantly, when it’s not convenient. Because I love him. And true love isn’t conditional. It isn’t about some arbitrary milestones or achievements.
It’s something we fight for every day. Because we’re in love.
Heaven knows there are endless things vying for our time and attention, driving us away from the things we love. There are always other opportunities, other obligations, maybe even glitzier or more exciting things just around the corner.
But love isn’t about how bright something shines in a single moment. It’s about how much it makes us shine—how much it unlocks our genius—every day.
We visionaries fall in love so easily. Because we have potent visions of possibilities. But so often we confuse love and lust. We confuse the shimmering glitter of excitement for a long-term commitment.
Real love isn’t easy. It can’t be. Because it forces us to grow into the parts of ourselves we’re terrified of. It forces us to become more of who we are.
It’s hard. And inconvenient. And, quite frankly, tedious and boring.
Want to know what my relationship is like? It’s a lot of laundry and dishes and walking dogs, peppered in with some Netflix binging and an occasional card game. It’s not all that glamorous.
But it’s love. And I wouldn’t change a second of it.
I used to think I needed constant excitement. To go to fancy parties and travel the world continuously and be showered with gifts. And maybe sometimes those things are fun. But, when we’re so in love, we don’t need more than the mundane. Because the mundane is sacred.
We want to do boring, tedious things like write blog posts or e-mail clients or touch up our paintings. Just as much as we want to do laundry and dishes. Maybe we need a little prodding. Maybe we resist at first. But we do it anyway. As an act of devotion, of love.
Because we’re in love.
We choose it even when we’re scared. When we’re fucking terrified. When everything in us tells us we’re not safe to be that vulnerable—again.
We choose it even when we’re bored. Or annoyed. Or frustrated that we’re not yet seeing major results.
Because we’re not doing it for the results. We’re doing it for the individual moments. Even the boring and tedious ones.
I didn’t start a relationship with Garrett for some arbitrary results—like getting married. I started a relationship for moments of splashing each other with water while doing dishes and spending all Sunday getting engrossed in a TV show that hardly enriches our lives at all.
Yeah, there are inevitably some really amazing external “results” in there. But I can hardly notice most of the day-to-day. I can just feel it.
And I don’t really write this blog post or do this work for a certain level of financial success or public reach. If that comes, awesome. It’s certainly welcome, and I open to it.
But I do each of these “boring” tasks because I’m in love. I’m so in love with my vision that I have to keep committing to it, even when it’s hard or tedious or frustrating. Even when I don’t see every external result I think I should in, say, three months.
It makes me shine more of who I am. It makes me access my genius. Like all of love does.
And we have to fight for that love every day. For ourselves, for our visions, for everything we believe in this world.
Because there’s plenty out there—maybe even well-meaning—that can pull us away from that love. The world of full of shiny novelty. And it can be really appealing when our current love seems a little rusted—when it feels boring or tedious or hopeless.
But we didn’t commit to this vision just on the easy, convenient days. We committed all the way. On days when it’s so fucking hard, and we have no idea if we can do this anymore. On days when we just want to pack it in and go home. On days when that new shiny object looks way more appealing.
We commit because we’re in love. And we can reconnect to that love any time we’re doubting ourselves.
We can remember that we don’t do this because of some potential arbitrary achievement. We do this because we’re in love. Because it brings out the best in us. And we deserve that. And so does the rest of the world.
Questions for Reflection:
*Answer in a journal, in the comments right here, or take it over to the Sacred Branding® Facebook group where we can support one another:
Do you ever get distracted by shiny objects?
— Have you ever gotten disenchanted with something you used to really care about? Do you seem to always get excited about new opportunities or new experiences rather than the boring, tedious parts of projects you’re doing?
— Are you amazing at starting new projects whole-heartedly but struggle to finish them? Do you shame yourself because you feel like you eventually get bored with everything?
— What if you are a visionary, and that means you have to fight for your vision every day in an increasingly chaotic and overwhelming world? What if you could fall in love with your real, true vision and choose it even when it’s hard to? What if your vision brings out the best in you, even during the dullest days?