Do You Ever Wish Someone Would Wave a Magic Wand and Make Life Easier?

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"It’s kind of like a fish trying to climb a tree all day, getting exhausted, and then wondering why it’s always hungry. It’s not that the fish isn’t capable of hard, important things. It’s just that it’s focusing on areas where it doesn’t shine."

For accessibility and ease, you can listen to this post narrated by Mike:


I used to wish things were easier. That I’d magically be given everything I wanted.

More money. More clients. A beautiful home. An easy life.

I just wanted it to be easy. I wanted someone to wave a magic wand and make it all so much easier. After years of struggle, what I really wanted was to be saved.

I wanted someone—or something—to save me. I had spent a lifetime trying to convince people—mostly myself—that I was worthy and valuable. That I wasn’t “too much” or “not enough.”

It felt like some of this should have been easier. I saw others who seemed to have it easier. On Facebook and Instagram. In conversations with colleagues and friends.

Why was I always struggling while it just seemed to work out for them? Was there really something fundamentally wrong with me? Did I not know some big secret everyone else was clued in on?

I felt exhausted. I wondered why I couldn’t just “make it happen” or make myself “just be happy.”

I wanted it all to be easier.

The truth is I didn’t believe I could do hard things. And I had no discernment of which hard things were worth fighting for.

I wanted things to be easy because I was exhausted. But I didn’t know that I was exhausted because I was fighting an uphill battle against all the things that would never work out for me anyway.

It was like Sisyphus endlessly pushing that boulder up the hill. I had convinced myself that more work, more pushing, was the key to success.

And then, when it didn’t work out, I pleaded with the Universe to just save me and not make me do another hard thing again. Which only made me more convinced that I couldn’t do hard things. And subtly made me feel even less worthy.

It’s kind of like a fish trying to climb a tree all day, getting exhausted, and then wondering why it’s always hungry. It’s not that the fish isn’t capable of hard, important things. It’s just that it’s focusing on areas where it doesn’t shine.

Honestly, in the last few years, I’ve chosen the hard things. Again and again and again. Sometimes even in literal ways (like doing something outside of my comfort zone every day in the Unique Genius Experiment or doing physical activity that challenges me more each day).

I don’t want things to be that easy, as strange as that sounds. Because hard things—the ones I really care about—they make me grow.

I’ve grown so much more from the challenges I’ve worked through the last few years than I ever did from the things that I didn’t have to think twice about. But only when those challenges were in areas that actually mattered to me.

Areas of my genius.

We can be like fish trying to climb a tree all day. Or we can jump right and the water and get some food.

I don’t want someone to wave a magic wand and make my life easier. Because then the external things change, but the internal stay exactly the same. And I still won’t feel capable of doing hard things I care about.

I don’t want to be saved. I want to save myself. And I know I can. When I choose things I care about.

And sometimes that sucks. Because that means letting go of stuff we thought we wanted for so long. Leaving my PR job to embrace the unknown wasn’t an easy decision. But it’s one that’s fundamentally changed my life.

Choosing to be with Garrett and figure out our relationship wasn’t exactly easy. But it gifted me so much more than I could ever have imagined.

Doing this work every day. Writing when I don’t want to. Creating programs when I don’t know what’s coming through. Investing big money in something that may or may not come together. All of that has been fucking terrifying. And hard.

But, when it’s coming from the place of my genius, it always makes me grow more into myself. And plays to my greatest strengths, even if I don’t know them yet.

I stopped wishing things were easier. Not because I don’t think I deserve ease. On the contrary, I know now I deserve ease. And, maybe paradoxically, the more I embrace hard things, the easier everything around me becomes.

It’s kind of like when I jumped out of a plane before I turned my book manuscript in. Nothing felt comparatively as scary as that. So life started getting a lot easier.

I choose hard things that I care about because I want to grow.

For a long time, I thought my problem was that I was “too much” or “not enough”—somehow inherently flawed. I didn’t realize that I was wasting monumental amounts of energy on things that weren’t in my genius.

We visionaries are capable. We’re way more capable than we realize. But we’ll never know it if we keep killing ourselves to fit in and do what we see other people doing. Because chances that it’s a perfect fit are pretty freaking low.

And I can spend all day trying to jam a square peg into a round hole. Or I can find that square hole and then spend my energy doing other things. Hard things. That I care about.

We’re exhausted trying so hard to be fish trying to climb a tree. Maybe we need to give up on the tree and find the water where we are geniuses.

Maybe it’s time we discover our genius. And know who we really are. And then choose the hard things anyway.

Because the craziest thing I’ve learned—and the thing that makes me want to continuously choose hard things—is that even when I “fail,” I still learn. I still grow more into my genius.

Choosing my genius always makes me more of myself. It always makes me grow into my purpose.

So I’m no long afraid to do hard things. I no longer wish things were easier. I’ve watched my life absolutely transform over the last decade that I’ve known and pursued my genius.

Some things that I was fighting so hard for, I had to let go of. Some things that I felt incapable of, I’ve been able to pursue.

And every time I’ve gotten to choose myself.

Life is a lot easier when you start from your genius. Even when you do hard things that change your life.


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 wish someone would wave a magic wand and make life easier?

— Do you ever secretly wish someone would just give you the thing you’re struggling so hard for? Do you feel exhausted for going after what you want? Do you start to doubt yourself or stop believing it’ll ever happen for you?

— Have you ever unconsciously believed you’re not capable of doing hard things? Do you ever intentionally choose the easy thing because you’re exhausted struggling all day? Do you fantasize about what life would be like if that external thing changed?

— What if you actually are a genius? What if you are totally capable of doing hard things but you’ve been struggling against your genius? What if knowing your genius and choosing to challenge yourself from that place would allow you to grow internally (as well as get what you want externally)? What could happen if you knew your genius and started from that place?

Mike Iamele

Mike Iamele

Mike writes about how artists, entrepreneurs, healers, and visionaries of all kinds can actually build a life around the genius inside of them.

He's CEO of Mike Iamele LLC and Creator of Sacred Branding® and the Sacred Circle.

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